Wolf's Helmet
by Lady3jane
Summary: POSTING EVERY FRIDAY. Gendry & Arya are reunited after her 3 year absence. They are in love, but since when did the path of true love run smoothly? The Baratheons are Werewolves and if Gendry wants his birthright he's going to have to join The Pack. But what about Arya and the Starks? Modern world. VERY AU. Lots of angst, sex, Jon, Loras, Renly, Robert, Ned, Edric, Cersei & more.
1. Chapter 1

**This is the first chapter of a new, stand alone story, but also works as chapter 25 of my first Fanfic – Bull's Helmet. You don't need to have read Bull's Helmet to follow the story line here, but if you haven't, you might like to read chapter 24 just to give you some context.**

**I've been influenced/corrupted by Teen Wolf. None of those characters appear here as there are plenty of GRRM's. This is obviously very AU, but if you're not looking for canon and just want some hot fun, read on…**

Uncle Renly was lounging elegantly on a green, leather chesterfield couch in 'The Stag Club', a Private Members Club just off Bond Street in London and apparently owned by Baratheon Holdings.

'Elegant' was a good way to describe Renly. For such a tall man, he was surprisingly graceful and immaculately dressed. While Renly had been talking, Gendry had studied his uncle carefully, trying to work out why a man he'd only met two days before was now offering him so much.

The glossy black hair was swept straight back from his forehead, reaching down to rest on broad shoulders. His eyebrows were immaculately shaped. Gendry had never known a man to pay so much attention to grooming before, but Renly certainly did and carried it off well. The bright blue eyes under those perfect eyebrows were Gendry's own: evidence of their shared genetic heritage. Similar axe blade cheek bones and strong jaw, Renly's without a hint of shadow. Pale Baratheon skin disappeared into a shirt of the finest black silk, the first three buttons undone to reveal smooth chest and collarbone as he moved. Arya had known the same of the designer who made his suit - Botang something. It meant nothing to Gendry, but Arya had been very impressed. The jacket was hanging open as Renly's arm was draped over the back of the leather couch, revealing a flat stomach, unusual in businessmen Renly's age. The guy obviously had time to work out as well as run the Baratheon Empire. His long legs were crossed, with one foot dangling lazily in the air. The socks looked like silk too and the shoes… well, Gendry had never seen any quite as shiny before. Everything about him screamed money, self assurance and power.

Renly had turned up at Tobho Mott's garage that morning, accompanied by his 'friend' Loras, in a huge, black Bently Mulsanne. Gendry had happened to be in the general office with Tobho when the Bently had pulled into the forecourt. You didn't see a car like that everyday and Tobho loved a rich customer. He literally threw the order book they'd been going through at Gendry as he rushed outside to do a bit of arse licking.

Loras had been driving and got out first, surveying the garage forecourt with his usual cold, disdainful gaze. Only after Loras was satisfied, did he lean back into the car to speak to Renly. As Loras held the door, the acting head of Baratheon Holdings removed himself gracefully from the luxury car. It was obvious Loras was acting as security and bodyguard; making sure that it was safe for Renly to proceed with his visit. Why he needed protection like that was something Gendry wanted to find out.

Tobho the salesman was almost grovelling as he greeted his rich new visitors. Renly smiled with well practiced indulgence, but he was obviously here for Gendry as Tobho turned and started back into the office at him. The wily old salesman was obviously disappointed that his wealthy visitors were only here to see one of his mechanics. Tobho waved, beckoning Gendry out of the office. As Gendry walked towards them, Loras, slouched against one side of the Bentley didn't even acknowledge his presence, but Renly looked delighted to see him, holding out his arms and unexpectedly pulling Gendry into a bear hug. Renly smelt fresh and expensive and Gendry was suddenly extremely embarrassed by his oily, sweaty overalls and his uncle's gushing demonstration of affection. Even Loras rolled his eyes.

"Mr Mott, Gendry is a ….dear friend of one of my relatives and I only recently discovered he was working in one of our garages. Could I possibly 'borrow' him for the rest of the day?"

Tobho Mott was never going to refuse a request from his bosses' boss.

"Of course Sir!" he barked. As Gendry and Tobho walked back through the office, so Gendry could change out of his overalls, the old salesman patted him on the back

"First the Starks and now the bloody Baratheon's! Whatever you're doing, you've landed on your feet now, eh Bull? Soon you'll be thinking you're too good for the likes of us!"

"Never!" Gendry said ferociously. "I'm no highborn snob! I'm a Waters and I'll never forget where I come from!"

"Ok, ok, I didn't mean to offend you Gendry. Just don't blow whatever you've got going here. Believe me, life's a lot easier with rich friends than without!"

-o-

Loras drove the Bently while Renly sat in the back with his nephew. The interior of the car was beyond luxurious and also huge. Both men had room to stretch their legs fully and the contrast between his own jeans and motorbike boots and Renly's designer suit and handmade shoes was not lost on Gendry. He felt exceedingly uncomfortable, particularly as Renly appeared to feel the need to tell him all about the Baratheon Empire and hadn't stopped talking about stock holdings, share options and big business for the best part of an hour. The only information that Gendry had found remotely interesting, or even understandable, was that the current multinational Baratheon Empire had its roots in the Storm Lands region of Westeros where, over the generations, wealth created by fishing and farming had given way to industry and in particular the national garage chain. It had been Robert (_his father- Gendry had to keep reminding himself_) who had elevated the family fortunes from securely wealthy to their current staggering abundance. Robert was apparently a ruthless businessman who had maximised every opportunity and crushed his competitors mercilessly: hostile takeovers of rival companies being his trademark.

Gendry wasn't sure why Renly was telling him all this. If his uncle thought it would impress him, then it wasn't working. Did Renly doubt that he would provide the stem cell donation that his dying father needed? Gendry had already decided that, even although he _hated_ what his father had done to his mother, he wouldn't deny a dying man the chance of a cure. He would donate all the bloody DNA they wanted. Dr Cressen had said there was no guarantee the stem cell transplant would work anyway and Gendry genuinely didn't care one way or the other. His father's life meant no more to him than that of any random stranger who found themselves in the same position. Did Renly seriously think that droning on about money was going to influence his decision? Eventually, Gendry had heard enough and interrupted the speech

"Look Renly, I get that the Baratheon family is stinking rich, but cut to the chase. What do you want?"

"Ahh, you are as blunt as your father!" Renly declared. Gendry didn't like being compared to his fucking father and resolved to try harder to be polite.

"Ok. The business lesson was very interesting and I'm happy for you all, but I've already decided to donate the DNA Dr Cressen wants. Robert has been no father to me and I've no interest in starting some fucking father/son bonding shit now, but I'll not deny help to _anyone_ that needs it."

"I'm relieved to hear it and your concern for your father is touching! However, I have a proposal for you Gendry _Waters_." Renly grimaced when he used Gendry's preferred surname. They'd already had a disagreement about that during their first meeting.

"Ok, spit it out Uncle _Baratheon._"

"Not yet Gendry. You're going to need a drink for this, and privacy, so we're going to my Private Members Club and I'll put my proposition to you there." Gendry groaned. Nothing seemed to be bloody simple anymore. Whatever Renly wanted, it needed a bloody 'proposal'. Gendry had already decided one thing - that drink was going to need to be a double.

-o-

So Gendry found himself sitting on an identical green chesterfield couch facing his elegant uncle in a private room of a private gentleman's club. Gendry was beginning to wonder if bringing him to The Stag Club was all part of Renly's plan. Maybe he wanted to intimidate him into agreeing to this proposal. Gendry certainly felt intimidated. He'd never been to a private member's club before and he felt the weight of generations of old money and the decades of city deals reached under this roof pressing down on him. He was already on his second double whisky while Renly droned on again about 'family' income. The burning liquid was having the combined effect of calming his nerves, while fuelling his anger and resentment. He imagined his father, Lord Bloody Baratheon lounging around in here while his mother struggled, working double shifts in the pub, to try and make ends meet.

"Cut the crap Renly and just give me your 'proposal' me now!" Gendry finally snapped.

"Ahh, it is quite remarkable how like your father you are. You would make an interesting study in environment versus genetics. I must mention it to Dr Cressen." Gendry looked blankly at him.

"Nature versus nurture? Oh well, I don't suppose your father would be interested either. You are obviously very much a man of action – as he is."

"Good for him. Now, spit it out!" Gendry growled.

"I am so keen to have you join our pack Gendry as we need _fresh blood_. Your father is dying, his three children, we now know, are not HIS children, I have no heirs and my other brother, Stannis, has one, sickly, female child. The Baratheon Empire _needs_ you."

"I don't know anything about business! And even if I did, I keep telling you I'm not interested! Why don't you just have a batch of kids yourself and leave me out of it?"

"That's just not going to happen Gendry. Surely you realise the nature of my relationship with Loras? We are partners, lovers. He has no intention of raising some test tube brats a la Elton John. No, _you _are the great hope of the Baratheon pack. Why do you think I went to such lengths to find you?"

"For the stem cell donation of course!" Gendry was becoming increasingly annoyed at Renly's failure to get to the point.

"Ahh… that was a useful cover story. Dr Cressen still intends to try that as a last gasp attempt to save your father, but he's not dying of cancer Gendry. He was hunted down and shot by our enemies, using some new, slow acting poison that we have been unable to isolate or treat effectively." Instantly the body guards at the hospital and Loras's constant vigilance made sense.

"Who would _hunt him down_? What's he done to deserve that?"

"I'll answer your second question first. He is a _**Werewolf **_and some people need no other reason." Gendry's jaw dropped open. Hearing Renly say 'Werewolf' aloud, as if he believed it, was gob smacking. His uncle must be delusional, or mad. Shit! Gendry suddenly hoped madness didn't run in the family.

"The answer to your first question is – most probably the Lannisters, although there may also be another agency involved, possibly working with them." Gendry decided to humour his uncle, go along with the fairy story until he could work out how to extract himself from The Stag Club and the whole sorry mess.

"Come on Renly, my father married a Lannister didn't he?"

"Have you never heard the saying, _'keep your friends close and your enemies closer'? _Robert needed Lannister money and their co-operation for one of his early business deals. Cersi came as part of the package. Her father, Tywin Lannister is a scheming old git and saw an opportunity to get his daughter married off to a brilliant young entrepreneur and make a profit at the same time. The Lannisters didn't know your father's secret then, but he knew all about them. He has carefully kept the fact that he is a Werewolf hidden for twenty five years. We all have." Renly explained calmly, as if all this Werewolf shit was fact.

"But you said his wife would be humiliated when the truth comes out about her kids and the incest, but that's not the same as trying to kill him? Anyway, I thought you said nobody knows about that incest stuff yet. Do they?"

"Well I, and a few others, have suspected for a while but now we have _proof_, courtesy of Dr Cressen and his DNA samples. I still hope to persuade the good Doctor NOT to involve the police, but certainly the Lannisters suspect and suspicion may have been enough for Cersi to make her move to eliminate Robert before he changed his will. Fortunately for us both, their attempt on his life was not successful and we still have TIME. But time is running out, hence my current proposal."

"Which is?"

"Join our wolf pack. Become one of us. Take your rightful place at my side and embrace your Baratheon blood."

"Become one of you? How?" Gendry was horribly fascinated to hear what mad uncle Renly was going to suggest next.

"A bite from the Alpha. Under the full moon."

Of course it would have to be the full moon wouldn't it?! Gendry was beginning to enjoy this. Renly was being so bloody dramatic; he was beginning to think he was in some movie set up. There was the car, the opulent surroundings and Renly could easily have passed for some Hollywood actor. Maybe there were hidden cameras in the room and that explained why Renly had been so keen to get him there?

"Why don't you borrow a few books from my little library here? That might help explain some things to you." Renly suggested, very seriously.

Renly's 'little library' was a floor to ceiling collection of, mostly very old, books. It stretched the full length of one wall and about five meters to the ceiling, with one of those polished old wooden ladders on rollers Gendry had seen in movies. He wandered over and pulled a book out at random. _R__estitution of Decayed Intelligence_, 1628 by Richard Verstegan. If this wasn't an original copy then it was still hundreds of years old. The thick, wavy yellow pages might even have been handwritten. The book fell open at a page with a line drawing of a hideous wolf with a limp woman in its jaws. Gendry shut the book hastily and put it back. Next he reached for the most modern book he could see, '_The last werewolf_' by Glen Duncan. The book's title was printed over a full, yellow moon. He was getting the idea.

"Please take a few. I think you'll find them to be very interesting and I want you to make your decision based on a full disclosure of information." Renly was watching carefully for his reaction, his manicured fingers pressed together at his chin.

"Ok, so where's the Alpha dog then?" Gendry smirked as his eyes roved around the room, looking for any sign of those hidden cameras.

"_Don't ever use the word __**dog**__ to me again!"_ Suddenly Renly's jovial façade was torn away, revealing bristling, foaming rage.

Stunned at the sudden ferocious change, Gendry gasped "I'm not afraid of you."

"_Well, you should be!_" Renly growled as he leant forward, eyes turning from the pale Baratheon blue to vivid orange, lips curled back in an animal snarl to reveal huge, yellow canine teeth. Despite himself Gendry jumped, spilling whisky, the glass shattering on the table. By the time Gendry stood up, his uncle had draped his arm back across the couch and was sipping his whisky as if nothing had happened.

Gendry couldn't believe what he had just seen. _What had he just seen?_ He eased himself back down on the couch, ignoring the spilt whisky pooling on the green leather.

"What just happened there Renly?"

"I was just explaining why you should take my proposal seriously dear boy." His uncle smiled, as calm and relaxed as if nothing had happened.

"And what if I don't?"

Renly sighed, suddenly looking very weary.

"Ultimately it has to be your choice, but I have to warn you Gendry, Pandora's Box was opened as soon as I found you. _I_ have enemies. Now _WE_ have enemies and they may know more about you than I would wish them to."

"Fuck this! You knew you were putting me in danger and still you did it! And what about Arya? She's in danger too isn't she? Some fucking family the Baratheons turned out to be!" Gendry got up to leave, but before he had a chance to move to the door, Renly slammed him against the nearest wall, one hand around his throat, iron fingers squeezing with increasing pressure. The burning orange eyes were back, the irises black slits and massive, ripping canine teeth were bared as Renly spat at him

"_Think you're a tough guy Waters? What are you 230lbs? You work out? Well I could throw you across this room like a rag doll before I rip out your throat out with my teeth. Think you can protect yourself and that pretty little girlfriend of yours on your own? Do you? I'll offer this only once. If you choose to walk away, then you'd better run and not look back_."

Snarling with disgust he shoved Gendry away effortlessly and sank back onto the couch. Renly's immaculate hair was now dishevelled and, shoulders sagging, head bent, he started running both hands through it, cursing Gendry repeatedly under his breath.

Gendry could only stand and stare. His uncle really was a Werewolf and seeing him sitting there now was like looking at himself in a mirror. He knew his own reaction to stress was to run his hands through his hair – Arya had commented on it often enough. He could try and deny it to himself all he wanted, but Baratheon blood flowed in his veins and his father's blood wanted this with a desperation he couldn't deny.

"If I joined the pack Renly, would I have what you have…that strength?"

Wearily Renly looked up.

"Yes. You'll need to learn to control it, but it's always there, to be accessed whenever you need it."

"What else?" Gendry asked, trying to keep his growing eagerness from his voice.

"You'll change when the full moon rises. There's no controlling that, but we have ways of dealing with it – one of the benefits of unlimited financial resources. We have safe houses, protection, teams to clear up after any…accidents. And the benefits Gendry! You cannot begin to imagine. I can smell your fear; it's like a stink pouring off you and I feel your excitement. At rest your heart beats 58 times per minute. Now it's elevated to 162, yet you're not moving. I _know_ you're scared. You can't hope to fight me and win, so you want to run, but you also want this too. _I know it._ Can you imagine how useful this is in the boardroom? Your father is the master of closing the deal. He knows exactly how far he can push his opponent. Human emotions to us are as easy to read as signposts."

Gendry though immediately about Arya. Would he be able to tell what she was feeling, what she was wanting?

As if reading his mind Renly growled deeply.

"And the sex Gendry! Animalistic sex under the full moon. If you only knew what that was like then you'd take the bite for that alone."

A disconcerting image of Renly and Loras fucking like animals on the discovery channel flashed into his mind. He tried to push it away as quickly as possible in order to focus on what really mattered.

"What about Arya? Could I hurt her?"

"I'm not going to lie to you. During the full moon, you will be more wolf than man and will desire her with an urgency and a strength you cannot currently comprehend. So yes, you could hurt her physically, but what about the other kind of hurt Gendry? Could she still love an animal?"

"Could I bite her?" Gendry's mind was racing. He was ready to accept this for himself, but could he do it if it meant loosing Arya?

"Only an Alpha can turn a human. And not everyone can be turned. Dr Cressen tested tens of thousands of samples and I only found you and perhaps one other in Stannis's territory. He suspects the boy may also be a child of Robert's. I haven't had a full report from Stannis yet, otherwise I would have told you before."

Gendry doubted that Renly would have told him unless he had agreed to join the pack. He wished he could tell if Renly was lying. But a brother? The thought of a half brother out there somewhere thrilled him more than meeting his father ever did.

"Could Dr Cressen test Arya?"

"Of course. Dr Cressen is being paid _very _handsomely for his services. He will do what he's told - in most circumstances anyway." Renly added ruefully, still smarting from the Doctor's insistence that the incest must be reported to the police.

"Then would the Alpha turn her?"

"_If _she can be turned then your father would do it _for you_ Gendry. Bring Arya to him on the full moon and he will gift the bite to you both."

"Ok. I'm in. How long have I got to until the full moon?"

"Five days."

Five days to persuade Lady Arya Stark to become a werewolf.

Gendry had been thinking about his future with Arya since he had met her again in the Doctor's surgery and a hope had been building in him since Robb's pre wedding dinner.

"Renly, is there a jewellers shop around here?"

"There's Cartier on Old Bond Street."

"Is that a good one? I want to go to a good one."

"Oh, it's the best. Why?"

Gendry felt his face turn scarlet. "I want to get Arya something."

"Well, you'll need this then. I arranged this in the hope that you would accept my proposal." Renly pulled a rectangle of silver metal from his wallet and handed it to Gendry. It looked like a credit card, but it was heavy, made of real, silver coloured metal.

"What's this?" Gendry turned it over in his hand to read the legend 'Amex Platinum'. Underneath was his name, or at least the new name Renly was obviously going to insist upon as part of their deal…_**Gendry Baratheon**_

"It's your company credit card. There's no limit, but I'd prefer you check with me before indulging any urges to buy yourself a private jet." Renly smiled. His relief that Gendry had agreed to join The Pack, written all over his face.

"Seriously? I thought…I though I'd just get paid…like normal." As soon as he said it he realised that 'normal' didn't apply anymore. How could he think anything was ever going to be normal again after he'd struck a deal with Uncle Renly the friendly, family werewolf?

"Come on then, dear boy, let's go shopping!"

If Renly was elegant, Cartier was opulent. Gendry had never seen anything like it. Although he wasn't accustomed to going into jeweller's shops, he doubted there was anything in Westeros quite like this. Renly seemed to be on familiar terms with the suited assistants, who treated him with the same reverence Tobho Mott had, or perhaps everyone treated Renly that way? Gendry doubted he would even have been allowed into the shop if he hadn't been accompanied by Renly and, of course, the ubiquitous Loras. Both those men certainly seemed right at home, browsing the cabinets and displays, making easy small talk with the obsequious sales staff, while Gendry trailed along behind them, worrying his motorbike boots were leaving oily marks on the thick, cream carpet.

"Loras, it's overdue time I treated you, why don't you choose a watch while we're here?" For once, something resembling a smile crept over Loras's poker face as he peered greedily into the cabinet.

"And Gendry, what did you have in mind as a gift for the beautiful Lady Arya?" Renly asked as they stood over a display of watches that had little cards beside them proclaiming the name of each of the watches in French, but no prices. They had looked in half a dozen glass display cabinets and Gendry hadn't seen a price tag in any of them.

"I was thinking of a ring…like an engagement ring." Gendry muttered, hoping Loras wasn't listening.

"Congratulations! I had no idea you two were so serious, but we love a good wedding don't we Loras? When are you love birds planning on getting married?" Renly clapped his nephew on the back.

"Err; we haven't talked about the date yet." Gendry never anticipated having to answer any questions and certainly didn't want to be having this conversation with his Uncle in a posh jewellers shop with Loras listening in.

A few hours ago, before he'd agreed to join The Pack, before Renly told him he only had five days until the full moon, asking Arya to marry him had been something that had only fleetingly crossed his mind. He had allowed himself to daydream about it, but only as a vague hope for the future. Now it seemed to Gendry to be the only way he'd manage to get Arya to agree to the Werewolf thing. If she loved him enough to marry him, then surely she'd agree to be bitten with him. Wouldn't she?

Renly seemed delighted by his nephew's news.

"I am sure Arya has exquisite taste. What style of ring does she favour? I always thought three diamonds, symbolising past, present and future was ideal myself."

"Err, we haven't discussed that either. I was thinking I could…umm…surprise her with it." Loras was doing that 'rolling his eyes' thing again that was beginning to annoy Gendry so much. Smug bastard.

"You've not even asked her yet, have you boy?" Loras sneered.

"Well, at least I'm going to pay for it myself and not rely on my Sugar Daddy to buy me it, like you!" And Gendry added an extra "Arsehole" under his breath.

Instead of rising to the insult, Loras simply replied 'Go fuck yourself Waters' before stalking off to stand at the entrance, while Renly sighed with despair at the two of them.

"I googled it and I'm supposed to spend two months salary, but I don't see any prices on this stuff." Gendry whispered to his uncle, while they moved back over to the cabinet with the engagement rings.

"Well…" Renly paused, as if grasping for the right words "You don't have to worry about the price now. Use your company card and just get her something you think she'll like. A Lady like Arya should have a stunning ring."

"Well, I suppose if I got something a bit more expensive I could pay you back."

"No need, no need. It's _your _birthright. Think of all the years you missed out Gendry. _We owe you, _and I want to make sure the Baratheons pay that debt. Please choose whatever you like."

"Umm. Ok then. I like those single diamonds. Like that one there." Gendry pointed to a square cut stone set in platinum. It wasn't the largest ring in the display, but was far from the smallest. To Gendry it seemed the brightest and sparkliest and exactly what he imagined Arya would like. Renly beckoned the manager over; he had been hovering at a discreet distance. The ring was removed from the cabinet and to Gendry's delight flashed impressively under the shop's lights. The manager declared it an excellent choice, due to the almost flawless quality of the stone. He urged Gendry to bring his fiancé back as soon as possible, in order that the ring be sized to ensure it fitted Arya's finger perfectly, and to allow the manager to meet the lucky lady. The deal was done, the ring nestled in a dark, red, leather box and still no price had been discussed. Gendry nervously drew the metal credit card from his wallet.

"You're sure this is ok?" he whispered to Renly

"Of course, go ahead. The pin number is the day and month we first met." Renly smiled indulgently. The manager's eyes betrayed his surprise when Gendry handed over the polished rectangle of metal and it was swiftly inserted into the card reader. It was only when the machine was handed back to Gendry that he saw the price. £76,250. He nearly choked.

"I'm not paying that! Forget it! I'll go somewhere else!"

Mortified, Renly grabbed his elbow and spun him around, away from the shocked manager and hissed

"Do you think _Lady _Arya Stark's going to thank you for a £3,000 ring? That's twice your monthly salary isn't it? Just pay for the fucking ring and let's get out of here before we get thrown out." Shaking, Gendry keyed in the numbers while Renly tried to sooth the, now very suspicious, manager. To Gendry's amazement, the transaction was immediately authorized and the card handed back to him, followed by the beautifully packaged red box. The manager managed a tight smile as Renly propelled his nephew towards the door.

"It's going to take you a while to pay that back to your Sugar Daddy Waters." Loras scoffed. Gendry was still too shocked to think of a smart answer. Still, he had the ring and he had five days to persuade Arya to agree to marry him. Marry him and become a Werewolf.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2** **What Jon saw**

Jon hadn't heard from Arya since Monday, when she'd asked for his advice about the fight she'd had with Gendry. He assumed they'd made it up as, when Gendry had replied to his text about the gig at The Tourney on Saturday night, he said he was bringing Arya. Griff had been fine about adding another two to the guest list.

Although Fire and Blood were only the support, they were generating such a buzz in Westeros and beyond, that Griff expected the gig to be a sell out and warned them to get there early if they wanted to be down at the front. The band was starting the sound check at five, but Jon and the rest of the lads didn't stop work until four. In the end, he managed to get his team to work through lunch and they finished the area of trees they had to fell before three. Showered and fed they were on the road to King's Landing in good time. As usual, Jon volunteered to be the designated driver. Sober, he could try and keep them out of trouble when they got drunk, as they inevitably would. Work hard, play hard, was the rule they lived by.

First stop on the road was the supermarket to buy the 'carry out' for the journey. Slabs of beer were loaded into the back of his Land rover by willing hands and the drinking and singing started as soon as they pulled out of the supermarket car park. Griff always burned CD's of each gig to hand out at the next one and a rough recording of the last gig blasted out of the Landover's stereo as they rolled along the motorway. The singing was truly awful, but enthusiastic and the promise of a great night ahead gave the Land rover a party atmosphere. They were a great team of guys; Sam, Grenn, Pyp, Jeren, Halder and Tim. He was going to miss them all when he left. Robb's wedding was fast approaching and he had to be away before then. He would need to make the decision soon – Daenerys or Scotland; the unknown or the familiar. But not tonight. Tonight was for loosing himself in the crowd, forgetting everything except the music.

Jon had met Griff through Daenerys. They were related somehow. Griff seemed to be the only person Daenerys knew in Westeros, and Daenerys was the only person Jon knew putting together a team for an assault on Everest, so it seemed inevitable their paths would eventually cross. Jon couldn't believe he'd only known Griff for six months, and Daenerys for not much longer. He hadn't met Daenerys face to face yet, but already felt he'd known her for years. They skyped most days. He was even learning French, so he could talk to her in her own language. Her English was nearly perfect, but he knew how precious the French were about their own language and he desperately wanted to impress her. She seemed to find his Westeros accent exotic and even seemed to like him calling her 'Danny', but at the end of the day, she was a professional and there was a serious job to do. Only the best were going to get a place on her team. Charming her wasn't going to be enough to get him where he wanted to be.

Griff was unlike anyone Jon had ever met before. The Starks were traditional, had sent Jon to a good private school, where he had mixed with the sons of other aristocratic families. Griff's family were also rich, but could best be described as 'bohemian'. Griff had gone to some arty, international, school in Switzerland where the aim seemed to be participation in sports and creative expression, rather than exam results. Jon had been introduced to the blue hair singer as 'Griff' and they had become the best of mates almost immediately. Sam kidded him on they were having a 'bromance'. While that was bullshit, there certainly was a connection between them. Jon couldn't describe it, but he trusted Griff, sought out his company and felt at home in it.

Griff had confided early on that his real name wasn't actually 'Griff' at all and that his father was the 70's rock superstar Rhaegar Targaryen, lead singer of the prog rock band 'Targaryen', who died in suspicious circumstances when Griff, or rather Aegon, was a baby. As Aegon wanted to be a musician himself, he felt that the Targaryen name would mean he wasn't taken seriously in his own right and was desperate not to be accused of riding his father's coat tails. So he called himself Griff, dyed his striking silver blond hair blue and started 'Fire & Blood'. They were now _the_ best up and coming band according to NME. Their live shows were the hottest tickets in town and Jon was always first on the guest list.

As usual, Jon and the lads were aiming to be right at the front centre and managed to get there while the band was still sound checking. Jon managed to find someone to open the bar, so the lads could get a few pints in before the crowds arrived and they couldn't get back to the bar. He wasn't best pleased when he received a text from Arya on Gendry's phone asking him to go to the bar and find out if a big, smartly dressed guy was called 'Sandor'. Typical Arya, she only got in touch with him when she wanted something and, typically, he couldn't say no.

So he made his way through the crowd from the front of the stage back towards the bar, offering lots of apologies as he squeezed through. The big man wasn't too hard to spot at the bar. There was only one wearing suit trousers and a smart shirt. Jon stood beside him at the bar and deliberately didn't try too hard to get served. The big man was definitely watching something, or someone, over Jon's shoulder. Pretending to be trying to catch the eye of different barmaid he followed the man's gaze and, sure enough there was Gendry, his arm wrapped around Arya's shoulder. Jon felt a pang of jealousy when he saw them both together. Gendry had always been his wing man when they went out. With Robb getting married it had frequently only been the two of them out in the pub on a Saturday night. Now his best mate and his little sister were obviously totally loved up, while he was going to be spending his Saturday night with six drunken grunts.

He hadn't even held a woman in months. Ygritte was spending the summer climbing in the Alps and, even when she returned to Scotland in September, she could easily have taken up with someone else: they had never had an exclusive arrangement. The advice he'd given Arya about Gendry could just have easily applied to him: he wanted something more at twenty six than he'd wanted when he was twenty, something, somewhere or someone of his own.

Wearily, he turned to the big man beside him

"You could die of thirst at this bar before you get a drink." The big man grunted in agreement, but didn't tare his gaze from Gendry. Up close Jon could see one side of his face was covered in red, puckered scar tissue. You wouldn't forget a face like that in a hurry.

"Hey, don't I know you? Sandor isn't it?'

It obviously was, as the man was clearly startled at being recognised. He looked down at Jon and, in a deep Scottish burr said

"Aye, but if you know me, then you have me at a disadvantage."

Jon pressed on

"Were you not on Ben Nevis in the snow last year when that Chinese boy went missing?"

"Maybe you met my brother, for I've not been back to Scotland in twenty years."

Taking a last look at Gendry, he turned away and headed for the exit, leaving his drink on the bar. Very strange: no doubt Arya would tell him what was going on at some point, but he'd done what she'd asked. He sent a text to Gendry's phone confirming the man was 'Sandor' then, as he was at the bar, got himself a drink and began pushing his way back through the crowd to the front row again.

The gig was a classic. Griff and the band were just getting better and better every time he saw them. The audiences were getting bigger and it was getting harder to get down to the front row and stay there as Fire and Blood gathered more and more enthusiastic fans.

At the end of the gig, the were all headed back to the bar, ears ringing, hoarse from singing along, soaked in sweat and T shirts looped through their belts as Griff had commanded removal during the show, when Sam pointed to Gendry and Arya snogging in the middle of the hall. There was no-one else around and they were putting on quite a show themselves. Jon initially though they _both_ were stripped to the waist and was very relieved to see Arya was actually wearing some backless top thing as he got closer. However, Gendry's hands were on Arya's arse and worse... her hands were on his arse and she was grinding into him very enthusiastically. The phrase 'get a room' could have been invented for these two. Sam, diplomatically said he'd get the drinks in and left, while Jon and the rest of the guys stopped to see how long it would take for Gendry to notice he was being watched.

Arya pulled away first and Jon had to laugh as he saw a look of shock, guilt and finally embarrassment cross her face. She pushed Gendry away, mortified that her big brother had caught her virtually shagging in the middle of the dance floor. The Bull just winked at Jon and laughed at Arya's attempts to shove him away, while simultaneously trying to straightening her top and hair. Oh well, he supposed if his baby sister had to be shagging someone, it might as well be someone who would take care of her and treat her right. Jon had to admit he didn't particularly like it though.

He introduced Arya to the lads and they were all still discussing the gig when Griff found them. Again, he had to introduce Griff to Arya. If it hadn't been his little sister they were posturing over, it would have been funny to watch Gendry and Griff trying to out macho each other. Griff seemed very taken with Arya and Jon could see why. The little tomboy had grown up into, easily, the most beautiful woman in the hall and being with Gendry seemed to agree with her. Her eyes were bright and her face flushed _and_ she was wearing a far too revealing top and tight leather trousers. Jon wondered how on earth she'd manage to get past Lady Catelyn dressed like that. Griff obviously liked what he saw as he held onto Arya's hand for far too long and even kissed it, making Arya turn beetroot and stumble over her words like a schoolgirl. Jon knew Gendry wouldn't like that.

The Bull physically dragged Arya away from Griff and Griff nearly overbalanced trying to hold onto Arya's hand. Arya was stuck in the middle, looking flustered and confused by the battle for her attention. Then Griff grabbed Gendry's arm in a bizarre kind of forearm handshake, the two of them gritting their teeth as they both tried to grip hard enough to hurt the other and force him to let go. It was verging on comical. Poor Arya. She had been worried on Monday night that she'd blown it with Gendry after he'd thrown her out of his flat. If she needed proof that he would never let her go, then here it was. Jon wondered if Arya was savvy enough to see what was going on. He would need to try and talk to her about it later and warn Griff to back off.

The main bad were crap compared to Fire and Blood, but the lads had been sobered up by spending time in the mosh pit with no alcohol and wanted to get some serious drinking in before heading home. Griff's band had more than their fair share of groupies and, in Griff's company; the lads were guaranteed some action. They weren't about to leave before taking advantage. Jon had to tell several young girls he wasn't interested and, unusually, Griff seemed irritated by their presence too. On several occasions Jon thought he caught Griff watching Arya and Gendry, but as there were other people around, and the music was thumping, he never got the chance to get Griff on his own to talk to him about it.

By the time they all met up again outside The Tourney, it was obvious it wasn't just the lads who had been hitting the bar - Arya was swaying and giggling. He'd never seen his little sister drunk before and, again, he didn't like it. Reluctantly he had to admit that, getting to nearly twenty one without your brother seeing you drunk was quite an achievement. If she had to get drunk, then at least she had Gendry to look after her and not some drunken teenage halfwit.

Jon hadn't noticed Arya going off to buy a newspaper outside The Tourney, but Gendry obviously had and it was Gendry exclaiming 'Oh Shit!' that had made him rush over to see what the problem was. Arya was crying and Gendry was trying to comfort her. He explained to Jon that they both knew Dr Cressen, whose death was plastered over the front page of the paper. Gendry was trying to tell him about the Doctor working for the Baratheon family and about finding his father, but as Gendry kept breaking off to soothe Arya, the story wasn't all that clear. What was clear from Gendry was that he thought this Doctor's death might mean that he and Arya were in some sort of danger. Gendry wanted Arya to go back to the barracks with Jon and the lads for the night. Arya was so upset and the lads were so drunk and wanting to party, that Jon didn't think that was a good idea at all. Jon managed to convince Gendry to let Arya to stay at the flat and, if Gendry was worried, he would come and stay the night at Gendry's flat too, as he had done many times before.

Before Gendry left with Arya, he said something that really puzzled Jon. Apparently he had some news from Renly Baratheon that he _had _to tell him. Jon knew of Joffrey Baratheon and his banana yellow Porsche, but what had the billionaire Baratheons got to do with Gendry all of a sudden? Gendry promised to explain it all back at the flat.

Jon took the piss artists back to Winterfell in his Land rover, while his little sister and Gendry followed on the motorbike. He pushed the Land rover as fast as it would go, knowing the bike could have got Arya back much sooner, but Gendry seemed to want to stay behind the Land rover. That was another thing that puzzled Jon. The lads were singing and shouting and joking all the way back and it was hard to listen to them being loud and boisterous, knowing Arya was so upset and Gendry so worried. He resisted the urge to yell at the lads to 'shut up' so he could think. Instead, he tried to concentrate on the road and not wonder and worry about what was going on.

The lads gave Gendry their traditional mooning goodbye at the Winterfell gates. God knows what Arya thought of that. It took longer than he would have liked to unload the drunken men and the remains of their carryout at the barracks and it was half an hour before he was back on the main road and heading towards Gendry's flat.

When he got to the flat, there was an Aston Martin Vanquish in the one visitor's parking place. That in itself was strange as Jon knew all of Gendry's neighbours. Jon had to help Gendry clean the common areas and smooth things over with the neighbours many times after their parties in the flat, and none of them were likely to have visitors with a £200,000 car. Stranger still, a motorbike was parked on the paving in front of the common entrance. Jon knew all of the bikers in Winterfell, and this wasn't a local bike. The helmet was hanging on the handle bars, unlocked and easy enough for anyone to walk away with. Whoever owned the motorbike was either in a great hurry or very stupid. He had a look at the back of the bike to see where the number plate was registered, but there _was no number plate_. Who would be riding around on a bike with no number plate? A growing sense of unease caused Jon to run back to his Land rover and get the knife he used for work from the glove compartment. It felt good and reassuring in his hand. He didn't like what was going on. A man with a burned face watching Gendry at the gig, a Doctor his sister knew being killed in suspicious circumstances, strange cars and a suspicious motorbike outside Gendry's flat. He took the stairs two at a time, desperately hoping he was over-reacting.

As soon as he saw that the door to Gendry's flat was ajar, he knew something was definitely wrong. He had a spare key and Gendry never left the door open. Brandishing the knife, Jon silently peered around the side of the door. The only light was coming from the hall and he could see Arya silhouetted against it, standing still as a statute, staring at something on the ground he couldn't see. He heard a sickening thud, a groan of pain and then saw the outline of a man, too short and thin to be Gendry, straighten up in front of Arya. Moving as quickly and quietly as he could, Jon made his way across the floor towards the man and as he got closer he saw what could only be a gun in his hand, waving it at the floor and then at Arya. In one fluid movement, Jon pinned his arm around the man's chest and, with his other hand, pressed his knife against the side of the man's neck.

"Drop the gun!" He ordered. He could feel the masked man tense with shock, but instead of doing what he was told, the man jerked his head to the side as he tried to turn to face his assailant. Jon must have been stronger than he anticipated, as the steely arm across his chest prevented the man from turning his torso. As he jerked his neck, the needle sharp point of Jon's knife pierced the exposed flesh, just deeply enough to open the main artery carrying blood to the man's brain. Immediately a jet of warm liquid shot into the air, swiftly followed by another and another, as the man's heart pumped his blood out of the knife wound in his neck. Jon dropped the knife in shock and as he relaxed his grip around the man's chest, the man sank to his knees. In the half light Jon could also see Gendry kneeling on the floor staring at him, eyes like saucers and he heard Arya begin to scream. Jon desperately scrambled to press his hands over the wound in the man's neck, but the blood was still pumping around his clasped fingers, soaking the man's clothes and the floor. The man's struggles quickly stopped and his breathing became a choking rasp, coming frantically and unevenly as his body shook with his last breaths. Still Jon tried to press harder, to stop the blood, now trickling though his fingers. Gendry, still kneeling on the floor and holding his side, yelled at Arya

"Get my phone and phone Renly. NOW!"

Arya was sobbing and crying "Why not the police?"

Gendry was shouting at her

"NO! Phone Renly and tell him I need help here NOW! Don't give him details; just tell him _**it's started**_."

Bewildered and shocked, Jon heard himself ask "What's started?"

"A war Jon. A Goddamn war." Gendry gasped through gritted teeth as he struggled to stand up, clutching his ribs.

Jon was cradling the man's head in his lap. There was no point in trying to hold his neck together anymore as the blood had stopped flowing. It was pooled all around them. Jon looked down at his own hands, blood now covering them and splattered up to his elbows. His knife lay in the pool of blood at the dead man's feet. Grimacing with pain, Gendry leant down and prised the gun from the dead man's fingers. A large silencer was fixed onto the muzzle. There could be no doubting what the man's intention had been.

"_I owe you mate. I owe you big time. He was going to kill Arya. If you hadn't got to him first she would be dead Jon! Dead because of me and because I couldn't protect her." _

Jon wasn't ready to accept that he'd saved Arya and Gendry. All he could think of was that he'd killed a man. He pulled the blood soaked, black woollen balaclava over the corpse's head to see the face of the man he'd killed. The eyes were open and the face wasn't peaceful, but wracked with shock and pain. He was an ordinary man, maybe mid thirties, with non-descript features. Jon tried to burn the face onto his memory, but even now, when he closed his eyes, he couldn't see it; couldn't see the features, only pools of blood.

Gendry yanked the collar of the man's shirt down and wiped away some of the congealing blood.

'Look. A tattoo. A Lannister Lion Rampant. Fuck. Where's fucking Renly?'

"Who's Renly? You need to tell me what's going on. I just killed a man Gendry and I don't fucking know what's going on!" Jon shouted. As he tried to stand up, the dead man's head rolled off his lap and hit the floor with a sickening thud.

"Renly's not here, but he's sent me to save your sorry arse Waters!" A tall, blond, grim looking man strode in the door, with half a dozen men behind him, all brandishing guns and wearing body armour. Immediately the blond one began barking orders.

"Waters - I hope you're insured as there's going to be a fire here tonight. Get what you _need _together. One bag and that's it. Get moving and don't forget that little red box of yours." Gendry drew the blond boss a filthy look, dropped the gun into his hands and limped off into his bedroom, clutching at his ribs.

"Arya - get some clothes on. If there's anything of yours here, go and get it now." Arya also did what she was told and left for the bedroom.

"You on the floor. Are you the one that killed that Lannister cunt?" Jon nodded as the blond boss rolled the corpse over with his boot, before kneeling down to look at the tattoo on the man's neck.

"Well done. I knew Waters didn't have it in him. Good job you were here. Now get in the shower, get some clean clothes on and we'll do the rest."

It took Jon several attempts to get up. His legs were shaking and his feet kept slipping on the blood. He staggered off to the bathroom and stripped off, dumping his blood soaked clothes and his boots in one end of the bath. He turned the temperature of the shower to scalding hot and stood under the cleansing water, watching the blood run off his arms, turning the water at his feet red and then pink. He picked up his boots and held them under the jets of water, rinsing the blood off them while trying to avoid the water going into the boots. He kept them well polished and fortunately the blood hadn't managed to seep into the leather. Jon knew nothing of Gendry's would fit him except his lycra running gear. He'd borrowed some in the past when his own clothes had been ruined in various ways on drunken benders, but as Gendry was considerably bigger than him, none of his boots would do.

As soon as the water ran clear he stepped out the bath and used the towel to dry first himself and then his boots. He wrapped the wet towel around his waist and went off to find something of Gendry's to wear. The men in the body armour had donned white, disposable, overalls and were busy cleaning up the mess on the floor where the body had been. There was no sign of the corpse, only smeared blood. A man in a white suit, holding a black waste disposal bag pushed past him into the bathroom and he imagined his own bloody clothes were going to be dissapear in the same way the body had vanished. God, these guys certainly knew what they were doing. How on earth had Gendry got mixed up with them and why the hell had he involved Arya? Jon's shock was being replaced by anger. He made his way into the bedroom, expecting to find Gendry and Arya and intending to make Gendry tell him what the fuck was going on, but they were gone and the blond boss was picking Gendry's clothes up from the floor and shoving them in another black waste disposal bag.

"They're in the car already, waiting on us. Give me that towel and hurry up and find something to wear." Jon hesitated, expecting the other man to leave, but instead he just held out his hand for the towel. Not wanting to refuse and waste time, Jon unwrapped then handed the wet towel to him, to be stuffed into the waste bag. The man's golden eyes dropped to Jon's limp cock, the man's face expressionless as Jon quickly moved around the room, finding a pair of Gendry's running tights and a lycra top and putting them on.

"I'm Loras, by the way. Head of Baratheon security." The blond man finally said after Jon stood up, boot laces fastened and ready to go. Jon gave his name in reply, feeling extremely uncomfortable in the man's presence. The golden eyes considered the new, tight clothing, making Jon feel ridiculously vulnerable and exposed.

"Time to get out of here." Loras said, moving towards Jon, who was standing between him and the door. The bedroom wasn't large and Loras deliberately pushed past Jon, pressing him against the wall, rather than letting Jon go first. Once out of the bedroom, Loras threw the waste bag at one of the white suited men.

"You know the drill. An accident. No traces left and no collateral damage."

"Yes Boss", the man snapped back, standing to attention. All that was missing was the salute.

Jon followed Loras out of the flat and down the stairs. More men were stationed at the door and the common entrance. They also stood to attention as Loras passed. Jon noticed the ear pieces, but otherwise, the men were trying to be inconspicuous. No guns, no body armour and no white suits on them. There were two Range Rovers with blacked out windows, double parked in the car park. The motorbike was gone. Jon expected Loras to lead him to one of the Range Rovers, but instead he strode over to the Aston Martin that Jon had noticed earlier and pulled the driver's door open.

"Out Waters! I'm driving."

"I'll drive my own fucking car." Gendry snarled back.

"Out! You don't know where the rendezvous is and I'll quite happily leave you here in the shit where you belong."

Gendry reluctantly got out of the car, grunting with pain and holding his side as he did. Then he pulled the driver's seat forward.

"Jon, will you sit in the back with Arya? I want to keep an eye on the way this arsehole drives my fucking car."

The Aston Martin belonged to Gendry? The Bull was going to have a whole lot of explaining to do. Jon climbed into the back, where Arya was sitting shivering, wearing one of Gendry's jackets. She was obviously relieved to see him and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly as he tried to fasten his seat belt. As soon as Gendry managed to get into the passenger seat, Loras immediately reversed the Aston Martin out of the parking space and gunned it out of the car park.

"Where are we going Loras?" Arya asked

"To meet Renly at Storm's End. He wants the two of you…the three of you, out of Winterfell for a while until we can manage the situation."

"_Manage the situation?_ Can someone _please_ tell me what the hell's going on?" Jon moaned.

"It's a long story and you're probably not going to believe it anyway." Gendry muttered. Loras shot him a warning look.

"Let's let Renly explain it all then." Gendry grimaced with pain as he settled back into the passenger seat. "…and you better not break my goddamn car Loras." On hearing that, Loras deliberately dropped down two gears, making the engine scream in reply. Gendry started cursing him over the whining engine. This was going to be a long journey.


	3. Chapter 3

Storm's End?

"Arya, wake up. Come on sis, wake up. You'll want to see this." Jon squeezed her hand gently and whispered in her ear, "Wake up. We're nearly there."

Arya opened her eyes to find they were still in the Aston Martin. It wasn't dark anymore and the first dawn light was breaking over the horizon, spreading pink and orange warmth in the distance. Jon was still beside her, squeezing her hand, Loras still driving and Gendry was leaning on the passenger window, still asleep.

Through the windscreen, far off in the distance, she could see the sea and sky meet on the horizon, all becoming brighter by the second. The road was twisty and they were driving through flat, wind swept grasslands. Looming on the left was the imposing bulk of a castle, rising from the edge of the cliff, dark and foreboding. Silhouetted against the dawn, it looking like a fist clenched in defiance, raised against the sea and sky.

"Welcome to Storm's End. Seat of the Baratheons" drawled Loras.

"Gendry" Arya whispered behind his head. He didn't stir. She stroked the back of his neck gently and whispered his name again without a response.

"Oi Waters! Wake up" shouted Loras, simultaneously poking him in the ribs.

"Aaaaah! What the Fuck? Shit! My ribs." Gendry gasped.

"You'll not want to miss this Waters. Home, sweet Baratheon home." Loras chuckled.

"Loras, that was ignorant. You can be such an arse!" Arya yelled at the driver, while Gendry clutched at his ribs, moaning loudly.

"It is stunning though isn't it?" asked Jon. "While you two were sleeping Loras has been filling me in on the Baratheon stuff – "_Ours is the fury_" and all that – suits you quite well Gendry, and I hear this Renly Baratheon is your spitting image - only better looking."

"Yeah, well no doubt that's Loras's opinion. Fine if you like your arseholes in designer suits."

"Shut the fuck up Waters and you'd do well not to bite the hand that feeds you." Snarled Loras, taking his eyes off the road to glare at Gendry.

"Will you two just stop it?! You are acting like idiots and, in case you've forgotten, the enemy isn't in here – it's the Lannisters out there! Will both of you just GROW UP!" Arya shouted. Loras glared at her in the rear view mirror while Gendry rested his head on the window again and closed his eyes.

By this time the sun was almost fully over the horizon and glinting off the white cliffs. Storm's End was massive. A golden flag bearing the prancing Baratheon Stag was flying high above the castle in the morning breeze. A barrier and high security fence prevented them driving straight in. Loras stopped at the barrier and lowered the window as a guard in uniform walked over to the car. As soon as the guard realised it Loras was driving he snapped to attention

"Sorry Sir! Didn't recognise the car, Sir! Nice Car Sir!"

Gendry leaned across Loras and shouted out of the window "It's not _his_ car – it's mine!" Arya slapped the back of his head.

"Ouch! What was that for?!"

"For being such an arse!"

Jon and Loras were laughing; Arya was fuming and Gendry rubbing the back of his head as the barrier lifted to allow them into the castle. As they drove under the portcullis, Arya marvelled at the thickness of the walls and then, beyond the wall, at how well maintained everything was. The buildings between the wall and the castle itself were all immaculately whitewashed and the sigil of the prancing stag was picked out in gold paint on doors and railings wherever you looked. The castle had seemed black and threatening in the dark, but now, inside its walls and in the morning light it seemed to be showing off the wealth and smug security of House Baratheon.

Loras parked the car to the side of a huge wooden door. They were last in a row of uniformly black cars, some even bigger than Gendry's.

Loras got out first, lifting up the front seat up to allow Jon to get out before stretching and enjoying breathing in the early morning sea air. Jon stretched and looked around while Gendry still struggled to get out of the car.

"What's wrong Babe?" Arya asked, feeling guilty for slapping him earlier, even if he had been behaving like an idiot.

"I think that bastard must have broken my ribs when he kicked me last night. It hurts like hell." Gendry moaned

"For fuck's sake Waters. Have you been coughing up blood? No! It's just a fracture and they won't even strap you up. You'll heal soon enough and until then you'll just have to man up. Have you never had a couple of broken ribs before boy?" Loras taunted Gendry who had still only managed to get his legs out of the passenger door.

"He's right." Jon added reluctantly. "I cracked two ribs coming down the Matterhorn a couple of years ago and all the Doctor did was give me was painkillers."

"So you're a climber? The Matterhorn's a bugger isn't it?" remarked Loras as he and Jon walked off, discussing their shared interest in climbing. Arya scrambled out of the driver's side and ran around the car to help Gendry. He put his good arm around her shoulder and pushed himself out of the car with the other.

"I think it's just sitting in the car too long that's made me so stiff." Gendry apologized

"Hmm. I'm just hoping my favourite bit of you is stiff." Arya teased, rubbing the palm of her hand up and down the crotch of his jeans as she stood in front of him, hoping their bodies would screen what she was doing to him from any prying eyes.

"It will be if you carry on like that." Gendry murmured, kissing the top of her head. "I've wanted to peel you out of those leather trousers since you put them on in your bedroom, but I think I might need to take a rain check until these ribs heal a bit."

Arya sighed with disappointment. Then thinking about what they'd done in her bedroom the night before put a smile back on her face. Had it really only been last night that she had left Winterfell? Her mood dipped again as she remembered the fight with her father. Now here she was with Gendry at Storm's End. Gendry Baratheon, she had to remind herself. He was probably heir to all this and, if being given one fancy car turned him into such an annoying prick, she dreaded to think what all this money was going to do to him.

As she followed Gendry through the door, she couldn't help but be impressed. Arya had been in plenty of stately homes before, but none as grand as this. Everything that could be, was gilded in gold leaf and what couldn't be was polished, painted or crafted to perfection. She remembered the shabby homeliness of Winterfell and Robb's problems with the roof and wondered if Winterfell would be given a chic makeover like this with the Frey girl's money.

A butler scurried out from one of the corridors leading from the huge reception hall.

"Sir. Lady Stark. If you care to follow me, Master Renly await in the morning room."

Without waiting for an answer, the butler turned and scurried back the way he came, leaving the two of them to follow along behind.

Sunlight was streaming in a huge, curved window that looked over the white cliffs and out to sea. The glass was set into the castle wall, forming a curved window almost the entire length of the room, starting from a few feet off the floor and rising high enough to allow a man to easily stand in the window cut in the castle wall and admire the view. The rock it was cut into must have been at least eighteen feet thick. The view was simply magnificent. Jon was standing in the window, dressed in lycra running gear, with an old fashioned spy glass held up to his eye, staring out across the water and didn't even notice them arriving. Loras was engrossed with watching Jon, so it was left to Renly, wearing black silk pyjamas and a matching silk robe, to rush over and welcome them to Storm's End.

"Gendry! Lady Arya! Welcome to the home of the Baratheons! Come in; come in…take a seat. Would you like tea or coffee?" As he noticed Gendry clutching his ribs and grimacing with pain he added "Or perhaps something stronger?"

"Have you got any painkillers?" Gendry moaned. "I'll have some of them with coffee if you've got them."

"Penrose! Will you get my nephew some strong painkillers and coffee as soon as possible?" Renly helped Gendry over to the nearest seat and Gendry eased himself into it, grunting with pain as he sat down.

"Loras tells me you had a run in with a Lannister goon last night and that, if it wasn't for Jon here, I might have lost you both." Renly's gaze passed from Gendry to Arya and back again, genuine concern etched onto his handsome face.

"You need to be more careful Gendry. At least until…at least until you can take care of yourself. So much depends on you. I can't lose you now!" Renly had his arm around his nephew and was obviously distressed by what had happened. Arya couldn't help noticing Loras rolling his eyes as Renly fussed over Gendry. Arya left them to it and walked over to a spread of pastries, fresh fruit and cheeses arranged on a starched, white linen tablecloth. She hadn't realised how hungry she was until she saw the breakfast. The croissants were still warm and she ate one standing at the table, hunger temporarily making her forget the etiquette Lady Catelyn had been trying to instil in her since birth.

"I must congratulate you Arya! Would you like me to get Penrose to bring some Champagne now? I have a few bottles of a wonderful Krug 58, that I have been saving for a special occasion and I can't think of anything more appropriate than to toast the happy couple!"

Arya turned around, half a croissant still in her mouth and spluttered "Huh! What?!" causing bits of flaky pastry to fly out of her mouth in a most un-ladylike manner.

Gendry turned scarlet and elbowed Renly, while Loras spluttered, half heartedly trying to suppress guffaws of laughter.

"_NO! I mean it's FAR too early Renly._ Arya and I have had a really bad night and we're shattered. Aren't we Arya? Can we just get some rest and we'll talk about this later?" Gendry had jumped out of the chair, the pain in his ribs apparently now forgotten and was trying to steer Arya by her arm away from the breakfast buffet and out of the room. Arya didn't know what was going on, but she was definitely still hungry

"Can you send up some breakfast please?" She shouted back into the room, over her shoulder as Gendry hauled her out the door. Penrose was just about to come back into the room with a strip of painkillers and a cafetiere of coffee on a silver tray as the two of them hurried past.

"Can you show us to our room please and bring that tray with you?" Gendry asked the butler. If Penrose was surprised, he was too much of a professional to show it. The butler simply tuned on his heel and led them back along to the entrance hall, then up the grand staircase to the first floor.

Portraits in elaborate gilt frames lined the walls of the staircase. As Arya passed them she noticed that every single one showed a man with black hair and blue eyes. The clothing and hairstyles varied wildly, reflecting the fashions of the past few hundred years, but the determination in the cold blue eyes, the thick black hair and the powerful build seemed to remain constant through the centuries. Those Baratheon words '_Ours is the fury'_ seemed highly appropriate looking at this scowling lot. No wonder Renly had suspected blond, effeminate Joffrey wasn't Robert's child. Seeing these pictures, there could be no denying Gendry's lineage - his portrait would have been right at home anywhere on this wall.

The older portraits hung at the foot of the stairs and the first, long dead Baratheon, had an Elizabethan ruffle around his neck and a pearl drop earring. Arya climbed passed portraits of men with huge curly wigs and satin sashes, painted in the manner of King Charles, the white powdered wigs of the Georgians, the severe black garb of the Victorians. Then an old, sad looking Baratheon in a first world war naval uniform, followed by a young one with slicked, centre parted hair from the 30's, another naval uniform from the second world war, this one with lots of gold braid and medals. After that came a slightly psychedelic painting showing a man with a big, black bushy beard, long straight hair and a huge collar on his shirt before she finally reached a painting of a Gendry look alike, in a pinstripe shirt and red braces, smoking a cigar. He reminded Arya of Gordon Gekko from the movie 'Wall Street' only with jet black hair. This had to be Lord Robert Baratheon.

He looked so handsome and vital; she found it hard to imagine that the cocky young man in the painting was the same, frail husk of a man she'd met in Maesters hospital. She could have stared at that picture for hours, wondering how Gendry would look when he was Robert's age, but she suddenly became aware that she was on her own; Penrose and Gendry were nowhere to be seen. She hurried to the top of the stair, not wanting to be left behind in a strange castle.

A maid was coming out a room half way along the corridor. Arya hurried over and asked if she had seen Penrose. The maid shyly nodded to the room she had just come out of. Arya walked into a beautiful room, where Penrose was unpacking the two rucksacks Gendry had brought from his flat. All he had wanted to take was his bull motorbike helmet and framed photographs of his mother, grabbed hurriedly as they had left the night before. Penrose was arranging them on a polished rosewood table. Arya blushed when she noticed Penrose had given _that_ picture of her gazing up at Gendry pride of place in the middle of the display.

Penrose smiled at her as she approached the table.

"If I may say, Lady Stark, your resemblance to your Aunt Lyanna is striking."

"You knew my Aunt?" Arya was amazed to find someone who knew Lyanna and, most importantly, seemed willing to talk about her.

"Oh yes, she was a regular visitor to Storm's End for a while. The first time I saw you and young Master Baratheon this morning, it was as if I had stepped back in time. Sir Robert was always so happy when she was around. The whole place was." He smiled wistfully. "It's wonderful to have you staying here again and Master Renly specifically wanted you to have this suite. You'll see why when you go through to the other room. Master Baratheon is in the bath I believe. I'll have breakfast sent up shortly. What would you like?"

Arya's stomach growled loudly at the mention of food. Lyanna's story could wait until after she'd had some breakfast.

"I think two full English please. In fact, maybe you should make it three. Gendry can really eat when he's hungry" and she wouldn't mind helping him with the third one today. Her stomach growled again in agreement. Penrose smiled again.

"Of course. I'll attend to it immediately." He bustled away, leaving her to go and find Gendry.

As soon as she walked into the bedroom she understood why Renly had specifically wanted them to have this room. The outside wall had again been replaced by glass and although it was done on a smaller scale, the view was just as breathtaking, an unbroken vista of calm, blue sea and sky. Sunlight was streaming in; bathing the room in a golden glow. A huge four poster bed, draped in cream silk, dominated one side of the room. A bath had been sunk into the stone of the castle wall, in front of the glass window. Gendry was sitting in the bath, grinning from ear to ear.

"This is the life isn't it?"

"Arya walked up the polished hardwood steps to the ledge of the window. Again, the castle wall must have been at least eighteen feet thick and the window was well over seven feet high. A dozen men could easily have stood in the window, cut from the rock. Ignoring Gendry for the moment, she walked over to the glass and peered down at the sheer drop. Hundreds of feet below, she could see waves breaking on jagged rocks and her stomach flipped as her brain struggled to accept that there was no danger, that thick glass prevented her from falling from such a great height.

"Watch this." Gendry chuckled. He reached over and pressed a button on a control panel, sunk into the rock. Gradually the glass darkened until Arya couldn't even see the circle of the sun through the window. She was staring at a black wall. Gendry pressed the button again and slowly the view returned.

"Wow." Arya was lost for any other words.

"We could get used to this." Gendry sighed contentedly. To Arya, the 'we' was loaded with complications. If Loras's men had done their job, Gendry's flat would now be burnt out and he seemed content to stay here. Once Renly got his claws deeper into him, Gendry might never want to leave. That had been a smart move on Renly's part - giving him that bloody Aston Martin. Having grown up with nothing, Gendry's head seemed easily turned by all this Baratheon money. So much for last weeks 'I don't want your money Renly' she thought, and what was all that about champagne and congratulations downstairs? Turning back to Gendry, Arya decided that asking him for an explanation and worrying about the future could wait. She had an itch that had been building all morning and that she needed to scratch as soon as possible.

The sunken bath was huge. Gendry hadn't put any bubbles in it so she could clearly see his flaccid penis floating in the water, surrounded by curly black hair, drifting around the base like sea kelp. One side of his torso was covered in red and purple marks, livid against his pale skin - evidence of where he'd been kicked. No doubt that would be turning to black and yellow in the coming days, but hopefully he'd still be able to give her what she wanted right now.

Shrugging his bike jacket off, she let it fall at her feet. Next off came the high heeled boots, thrown down the stairs onto the wooden floor. The stone of the castle wall was still cold under her feet, the early morning sun not having had enough time to warm the ancient rocks. Gendry's blue eyes followed her every move, shining with anticipation and lust as she slowly stripped for him.

A quick pull of the ties holding her top together behind her neck and around her waist let that fall to the floor, pooling at her feet. She rolled her hips suggestively as she eased the leather trousers down, being careful not to pull her panties off this time. She saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed and licked his lips. Despite the impending bruises he still looked magnificent, muscular arms stretched across the rock at his back, black hair slicked away from his face, morning stubble giving his face a very appealing rough edge. Silky black hair stretched across his chest, before it disappeared under the water, trailing down his defined stomach to his wonderful cock, and then covering his legs so thickly they looked almost black in the water.

Arya turned around so he could admire her arse as she stepped out of her trousers, leaving her standing in just those hundred pound bondage pants. Peeking over her shoulder at him, she hooked her thumbs through the straps over her hips and very slowly eased them over the globes of her buttocks, revealing that white panty line she knew he liked so much. By the time she slowly turned around, his cock was fully erect, rising up towards her like some prehistoric sea monster. With both thumbs still hooked in her panties, she pulled them down to her thighs, delighting in his reaction to her bare pussy. Know she had such an effect on him gave her an erotic confidence she had never imagined she could possess.

Stepping out of the panties she walked over to the bath, making sure she rolled her hips for him as she walked down the stone steps into the massive bath, excavated from the rock. The water was warm, but not too hot. In the sunshine it was easy to imagine they were outdoors in the Caribbean somewhere, about to fuck al fresco in a secluded rock pool. The water was deeper than she had imagined. Gendry was sitting on a shelf cut into the stone, long legs stretched out in front of him. She pushed through the water until she was beside him, and then straddled him, kneeling on the shelf, a leg on either side of him. As she rubbed her breasts over his face he clasped his hands across her back, pulling her into him, burying his face in her tits. She undulated her hips, feeling his hard cock beat against her stomach as she writhed over him. She pressed her breasts together, offering them to him and enjoyed feeling the rough stubble of his chin scratch against them, making her nipples tingle with anticipation. He licked them greedily before sucked on them in turn, drawing one into his mouth and only releasing it when each nipple was swollen and tender and larger than Arya had ever thought possible.

She couldn't wait any longer and lifted herself up so his big, thick cock was under her, pressing against the entrance to her greedy, tight pussy. He grabbed her hips, preventing her from driving down, impaling herself on him.

"I've never done this before Arya." She snorted with disbelief,

"I though you'd done it _everywhere?_"

"Not underwater. I've never been in a bath big enough, or a swimming pool private enough."

"Not even in the sea?"

"In Westeros?" he scoffed. "My dick would be so shrivelled with the cold I wouldn't be able to find it."

"I meant abroad, stupid. Like the Caribbean."

"I've never been abroad." Arya was stunned by this admission – he was twenty six and had never have been out of the country. It became easier to see why he was so eager to embrace what Renly was offering him.

"Well I'm glad you're still a virgin at something..." she murmured as she eased down onto his shaft, moaning with pleasure at the exquisite feeling of being stuffed with his cock.

"Fuuuuuuuck" he groaned as she eased down and up and slowly down again on him.

"You know I love you don't you babe" he moaned as he helped her lift her hips up and down, stopping just before his cock slipped out. Why did he have to complicate such a perfect fuck with this again?

"Yessss" she hissed through gritted teeth as she moved faster on him, but didn't offer to return his compliment.

"Everything's changing and I'm going to change too." Arya tried to block out what he was saying and just concentrate on the feelings building inside her. Of course everything had changed already. They were together, he was a Baratheon and they were fucking in his family's castle. Already that damn car had changed him and she had no doubt he'd start wearing designer suits like Renly before too long, but none of that mattered. All she wanted was him and right now she _needed_ him to fuck her hard.

"I need to ask you something babe..."

"God, Gendry, not now. I'm getting close. Just shut up and fuck me ok?"

Water lapped about them, slapping off the sides of the bath as their movements became more forceful. He did his best to comply with her command, thrusting up into her, grunting with every stroke. She didn't know if it was the pain in his ribs causing him to grunt like that and she didn't care. A little bit longer and she would have her release.

"I love you" he repeated over and over as he pumped up into her and despite that, she came in a great, shuddering rush, pulling him to his climax. As he came he repeated her name over and over and she had to bite her lip to stop herself telling him to shut up.

As Arya eased herself off him, she noticed she could hardly see the blue of his eyes. Despite the bright sunlight, his pupils were almost fully dilated.

"Hey, big guy, what did Penrose give you?"

"Umm. Tramadol I think." Already his eye lids were drooping.

"Come on. Let's get some breakfast in you before you fall asleep."

"But I need to ask you something Arya. I really do…"

"I know Babe, but I'm not going anywhere. Come on. Let's get you dried and fed." He followed her out of the bath, and she noticed that already the rock under their feet was warming in the sun. It felt strange to be standing naked in front of a window, but unless someone abseiled down the cliff, no-one would ever see them. Jon would no doubt like to do something like that. She wondered what kind of room Renly had given him. Maybe she'd go and try and find him while Gendry slept.

Two fluffy white towelling robes, inevitably with the Baratheon sigil embroidered on the chest, were hanging on the wall. When she put hers on, it was so big it almost touched the ground. Gendry looked like a big, sleepy toddler in his. His hair was all ruffled and his eyes were drooping as he ate most of the breakfast Penrose had left for them. It had been brought in on a trolley - three dishes covered by large silver domes, just like in the movies. The sausage, bacon and eggs were still piping hot when Arya pulled the covers off and there was so much on each plate that, despite her best intentions, she didn't have room for any of the third breakfast.

They ate in silence. Gendry seemed too tired to talk and Arya was grateful to avoid what she was sure was the _'why don't you say you love me?'_ question Gendry kept going on about. She felt he was pressurising her into saying it. She was pretty sure she loved him - she certainly wanted to shag him all the time and was definitely _in_ _lust_ with him. Her heart skipped a beat whenever she looked at him and she felt insanely jealous if any other woman looked at him – which was almost always.

She had imagined the two of them living together in his flat so that was probably love, but she'd never said she loved anyone before, except her family, and she wanted to tell him when she felt ready to, not just because he said it to her. Those three little words seemed to roll off his tongue so easily and he was saying it so often now it was beginning to make her uncomfortable. Maybe she should just ask him to cool it with the 'I love you' stuff for a while until she felt ready to say it to him. That seemed like a plan and she'll tell him after he'd woken up: maybe after they shagged again as he was likely to go off in a huff and she wanted to make sure he gave her another 'good 'seeing to' before they had a fight. At least he couldn't throw her out of his flat this time.

Arya helped him off with his bathrobe before he collapsed on the bed.

"Sleep with me please Arya" he begged drowsily. She removed her bathrobe and curled up beside him on the huge bed. Arya covered them both with a silk sheet, but she didn't black out the window. It was lovely lying in the sun, feeling his hard body against hers and the sun on her back. She imagined again that she was on a Caribbean island with him; away from the Lannisters and Renly and James Bond cars. Within a few moments they were both fast asleep.


	4. Will she or won't she?

**Will she or won't she?**

When he woke up she wasn't there. Gendry was disorientated and it took him a few minutes to work out whether he had dreamt he'd come to Storm's End with Arya, or whether it had really happened. As he rolled over, the pain that shot through his ribs confirmed the kick from the Lannister hit man had certainly happened. He looked out of the window – glass wall was a more accurate description – at sparkling blue sea and sky and he knew he couldn't be anywhere else. His flat was gone. This was going to be home now, at least for the foreseeable future. Storm's End, ancestral home of the Baratheon family. HIS family now, he had to remind himself.

Arya wasn't beside him, but his mobile was in the dent in her pillow where her head had been, flashing with a message received. Groggily, he picked it up and read her text.

'Hi sleepyhead! Away to find Jon. Txt me when u r up. Love A xxx'

The 'love' bit brought a smile to his face. Just to make sure, he scrolled back through her texts. Sure enough, that was the first time she'd said it. Something like panic started stirring at the back of his still sleep befuddled mind. Time was running out: the full moon was on Wednesday. He hadn't even given her the ring yet and the full moon was on Wednesday. Shit, Renly might have said something to her about celebrating the bloody non-existent engagement while he had been sleeping. Shit!

"Hi yourself." he text back. "Hurry back." And as an afterthought, he added "Luv Big G" but decided against adding kisses, as that was just too bloody metro sexual. He wondered if Renly and Loras put kisses at then of their texts to each other. Chuckling to himself at the thought, he got out of bed, gasping again at the pain in his ribs. Thinking those damn pills hadn't worked, he looked around for the rest of the strip. It was still sitting on the silver tray. He should probably leave four hours between pills, so he checked his watch to see when he could take another couple. Bloody hell! 5.25pm. He'd slept for nearly nine hours. Shit! He wasn't taking any more of those fuckers. He would just have to put up with the pain.

He badly needed to take a piss and couldn't remember seeing a toilet, but there had to be one somewhere. He got off the bed and was shocked to find he wobbled and had to sit down again. What the fuck was in those pills? Arya was bloody lucky he'd managed to get it up for her in that bath. He looked down at his cock appreciatively. It had never let him down yet, but wasn't looking too alert now. A piss and a shower might sort him out.

He stood up again, more slowly this time and walked unsteadily off to find the bathroom. The bedroom itself was probably bigger than his whole flat. He looked up at the high ceiling and realised, volume wise, two of his flats would probably fit in here. He felt a pang of regret at his smart little flat getting torched. At least he wasn't homeless and who would have thought some Lannister hit man would have met his end there. That made him wonder how Jon was. Gendry made a mental note to thank him again, and properly, for saving his life - his and Arya's. How did you ever repay a debt like that?

Gendry wondered if he'd had the bite already would that have made a difference? He remembered how fast Renly had moved in that private member's club and how easily Renly had thrown him across the room. There had been absolutely nothing he had been able to do last night against a man with a gun, but at the very least, he would have stood a chance with the Werewolf's speed and strength. There was no doubt in his mind – he HAD to take the bite and the quicker the better. Moonrise on Wednesday couldn't come quickly enough, if only he could get Arya to agree. He had to get himself together before she came back and pop that damn question, but first he really needed that piss.

There were doors pained the same cream as the walls on the far side of the room. No wonder he had missed them at first as they had no bloody handles, but the outlines were unmistakable door shaped. He pressed the nearest door where the handle should have been and, sure enough, the door open smoothly inwards, revealing a walk in dressing room, with rails of clothes handing neatly along one wall and racks of shoes, belts and other stuff along the other. That was no use to him right now.

He tried the next door. This time he got it right. He saw a shower cubicle as soon as the door opened and he relieved himself in the toilet as quickly as he could. There was no flush button or handle and it took him a while to work out that a wave of his hand a few feet above the bowl was enough to initiate the automatic flush. After that, he had time to look around. Every surface gleamed white or gold and the towels, predictably enough, were embroidered with the gold, prancing stag. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and realised he badly needed a shave. He hadn't packed any of that stuff, thinking it was non essential at the time, but it was feeling pretty damn essential now. Some more hunting produced a well stocked bathroom cabinet behind a mirror that opened the same way as the doors. He laid out the razor and foam before deciding to have a shower. While it would have been great to wait and have Arya share it with him, he wanted to be ready for her and get this proposal out the way before they got interrupted again.

The shower was one of those fancy glass cabinets with umpteen jets that shot water out at you. He didn't have time to mess around with all that, and managed to have a hot, normal shower without too much messing around. However, he was still in the middle of shaving, towel around his waist, when Arya popped her head around the door.

"Hey, sleepyhead. How are you feeling?"

He couldn't stop himself grinning.

"Much better now you're back."

As usual, she looked amazing. She had on the same leather trousers and boots, but instead of the sparkly top she was wearing his 'Team Green Kawasaki' T shirt. One of the two he'd stuffed in the rucksack. She'd rolled up the sleeves and knotted it around her waist, making his ordinary T shirt look fucking amazing on her. Hopefully, by the end of the day, she'd be wearing his ring too.

She came in and sat on the toilet seat and watched him finish shaving.

"You know, with your hair slicked back like that, you look really like your father." Arya said thoughtfully. Gendry paused, razor in mid air.

"You know I'm not going to take that as compliment don't you? You really think I look like that old fucking bag of bones?" he snarled

"I don't mean now, I mean when he was young!"

"How do you know what he looked like when he was young?" Relieved she wasn't referring to the way Robert looked now, he continued working with the razor.

"His portrait is hanging at the top of the stairs. There are portraits of generations of Baratheons actually. You must have walked past them on the way up, but I'll show you Robert's later. Actually, you look like all of them. Renly was right - he didn't need a DNA test to know you were a Baratheon."

"Great" he muttered sarcastically "That just makes it easier for the bloody Lannisters to pick me out in a crowd doesn't it – like at The Tourney." Arya didn't want to have to think about that night again – ever, so she changed the subject.

"Want to know what you missed while you were sleeping?" she asked

"Hmm. Dunno. Anything interesting?" he grunted out of the corner of his mouth while trying to shave his upper lip.

"Well…first of all, you'll be pleased to know your bike's here. It's parked beside your car at the front door… er gate…oh you know where I mean."

"Phew, that's a relief, I hope whoever rode it here was careful."

"Well I didn't see it until Loras was away, so I didn't have a chance to ask him. Loras and Renly took Jon away to play golf. Apparently they're members of some championship golf course nearby. They were going on about 'The Open' being played there last year. Jon was really excited about it."

"Yeah, well he's easily excited. Glad I missed that then."

"Well, no doubt you'll get to hear _all _about it at dinner tonight. 7.30, black tie and Renly's _promised _me he's going to tell me about Lyanna then. I couldn't get him to tell me anything until you were around. He says you've got something to tell me first. So spill it Waters!... Umm, that reminds me, what do you want me to call you now? Waters or Baratheon? Renly goes nuts if anyone refers to you as 'Waters'. I thought he was going to throttle Loras earlier."

"Now, I wouldn't have wanted to miss that!" Gendry chuckled, drying his face.

"Stop changing the subject!"

"It was you who brought it up! Anyway, I suppose while I'm here it had better be Baratheon."

"But what about when you're not here? What then?"

"What do you think?" He was very keen to hear what she though. Only now she mentioned this, it occurred to him she couldn't very well be Mrs Gendry. He decided he would go with whatever she wanted.

"Hmm, I know you said you wanted to use Waters out of respect for your Mum and that your Father hadn't ever done anything for you, but Renly is trying to make it up to you now isn't he? And I think your Mum would love to see you having all this." Arya waved her hands around, indicating Storm's End.

Gendry hadn't really thought beyond getting Arya to agree to marry him and accept the Werewolf thing. Was that what Renly had meant by joining The Pack? Until now he'd only thought of Storm's End as a kind of luxury hotel, but being responsible for all this? He'd had to listen to Robb moan about his responsibilities at Winterfell often enough to know that inheriting was a double edged sword - no gain without pain. Suddenly he felt like someone had just dumped the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"I think you've got to go with Baratheon!" Arya said decisively, before noticing his miserable expression.

"Hey, Gendry what's wrong? You really wanted me to say 'Waters' didn't you?" she stood up and wrapped her arms around him, giving him a careful hug. He tried not to wince too much as she brushed against his sore ribs.

"No, it's not that… I know you're right. If I want all this it's got to be Baratheon, but I don't know if I want all this…stuff."

"So, just tell Renly 'Thanks, but no thanks' then."

"Oh Arya, it's not that straight forward." He said glumly, hugging her back. "There are other things that come with the name that I want, and I want them _really _badly… but I don't know if you will want it too." She pushed him away gently, in order to see his face

"Well, if you don't ask me, then you'll never know what I want." She eyed him seriously. This was certainly _not _how he had imagined proposing, but here she was, _asking him_ to ask her and if he didn't do it now, then when?

"Come into the bedroom then and I'll ask you." He led her by the hand out into the beautiful sunlit room.

"Sit on the bed." She did what she was told, looking very puzzled. He had unwrapped then hidden the Cartier box in the bedside cabinet as soon as he had arrived in the room - while Arya had still been looking at the portraits in the hall. Now he took the red velvet box out from its hiding place the back of the drawer and dropped down onto one knee in front of her, ignoring his protesting ribs.

"Lady Arya Stark, will you marry me?" He held the box out to her.

"Oh fuck!" she squealed, flinging her hands up to cover her mouth. That wasn't quite what he'd hoped she would say. A vision of him telling this story to Robb and Jon flashed into his mind 'And what did she say mate?' they would ask 'Oh fuck' he would have to tell them. No, there had to be more than that! He waited anxiously for her to say something else, or at least open the box, but she didn't. She just sat there, eyes wide with shock and her hands over her mouth.

"Why don't you open the box Arya?" he asked gently.

"Umm, oh fuck." She mumbled behind her hands. This wasn't getting any better.

"Please open the box?" he tried again, but he was beginning to sweat.

"So _this _is what Renly said you had to ask me?" she finally gasped.

Dear God, how did he answer that? Renly believed he had already asked Arya to marry him, and that she'd already agreed. What Renly _had _meant was for him to ask her about the Werewolf thing before Renly told the Lyanna story tonight. Shit, here goes nothing…

"Well…he meant this _and_ something else." Gendry sighed. He put the box down on the bed and rested his forehead on her knees, looking down at the thick cream carpet, before closing his eyes. How was he going to say this? He had hoped she would agree to marry him and after that, she'd be so happy with the ring and everything that she would agree to whatever else he wanted. It sure as hell wasn't working out like that. He felt her warm fingers stroke over his shoulders and eventually, her nails trace the outline of his tattoo.

"_V__alar morghulis_" she whispered.

"I got that to remind me of you Arya. I was too embarrassed to tell you before." He felt her move her hands to the back of his neck, stroking his neck and ruffling his hair.

"I knew it had to be for me." She whispered "You never were any good at lying." She added as she rolled his head to one side and traced a finger down the side of his face, following the line of his jaw. He lifted his arms up and wrapped them around her legs, resting his hands on her bottom, enjoying the feeling of her leather clad thighs against his skin. He resisted the urge to squeeze her arse and bury his head in her crotch to inhale her glorious female scent, mixed with the smell of warm leather.

"So, are you going to tell me what the something else is?"

He inhaled deeply, grimacing as his ribs protested, and exhaled slowly, trying to think of the best way to tell her.

"The Baratheons have a great big secret and they share it with the Starks, according to Renly." He felt her thighs tense under him and her hands immediately stop stroking his hair.

"I want what Renly's offering me. I really do Arya, but I won't do it if you don't want to do it too." He sat up straight again, so he could look her in the eye. "Do you know where the Starks got their sigil?"

Arya considered his question.

"Umm, no actually. I assumed it was something to do with forestry or hunting, but it's so old I don't think anyone knows anymore."

"You're not going to believe this… but the Starks have been Werewolves for generations…" Arya pulled a face which implied she thought he was joking. He carried on regardless "…and now the Baratheons are too. If I … _**if we**_ want all this" he gestured around the room, "…then it's part of the deal – take the bite and join The Pack."

"You're kidding me right? Did you get a knock on the head as well as a kick in the ribs?" she scoffed, but there was an edge to her voice. He could tell she was trying to dismiss what he had told her, but that part of her suspected there might be some truth in it.

"Renly's going to tell us tonight what happened with Lyanna and my Father. He's not told me everything yet, but I know it involves you and me and Jon and I've seen it Arya. Swear on my mother's grave, _I've seen it_. Renly's a Werewolf and he's got this power you can't imagine. I want that power too." He told her earnestly; desperate for her to agree to this too.

"You _want_ to be a Werewolf?" Arya looked at him warily.

"I want _**us**_ to be Werewolves, to join The Pack together."

"No feakin' way!" She yelled and tried to stand up, but he pushed her back down.

"At least listen to what Renly has to say. I've told you I want this, but I'll not do it if we're not doing it together." He declared.

"So is this why you wanted me to marry you? So you could keep me here and let Renly brainwash me like he's brainwashed you? You are mad and he's worse!" She tried to stand up again and he didn't stop her this time.

"Tell me who paid for the Cartier ring Gendry." She demanded.

"Why don't you open it – see if you like it?" He was desperately trying to avoid answering that question.

"You know how I said you were never any good at lying? Well you've not improved any. I _know_ it was Renly who bought that ring!"

"Arya…" he began to plead, but she wasn't in the mood for listening to him any more.

"_Is it Renly asking me to marry him or is it you? I don't think I even know who you are anymore! You let bloody Renly buy you a huge James Bond car, you even let Renly buy __**me**__ an engagement ring and people are dying and now you tell me you want to be a fucking Werewolf!"_

By the time she was finished she was screaming at him and she wasn't even finished. He opened his mouth to explain that at least he had chosen the ring, but she never gave him a chance.

"_You two can keep all this in your cosy little Baratheon Werewolf family if that's what you want, but it's not what I want!"_

"So what _do_ you want Arya?" he yelled at her in exasperation "To have a good time with no commitment? Just do what _you_ want all day? No strings sex when it suits you? You're only happy when you get your own way! You told me in that text you loved me. _So_ _what about what __**I **__want?_ I told you I want this and you're not even prepared to consider it for me!"

"_No, I'm not! _That's the bottom line isn't it? We want different things. I've got enough family and money already Gendry and all this new Baratheon money and being part of Renly's pack means nothing to me, while it obviously means everything to you. I'll listen to Renly tonight because I want to hear about Lyanna, but that's it - I'm leaving tomorrow!"

"To go where? Back to Winterfell? The wonderful Lord and Lady Stark threw you out _remember_?" he sneered

"I've got a student flat in London _remember_? I'll go there!" She stomped off towards the bathroom, but halfway across the room, stopped to glare back at him, still on one knee beside the bed.

"_And in case I didn't make myself clear - I'm not marrying you Gendry Baratheon!_" She yelled at him before stomping across the rest of the room and kicking the bathroom door shut behind her.

He dropped his head onto the edge of the bed in despair. That hadn't gone well at all. He felt like howling in frustration. All his plans lay in tatters. Selfish bitch! She hadn't even looked at the ring, wasn't prepared to even contemplate becoming a Werewolf.

He couldn't go for a run; he couldn't go and work out to get rid of his frustration. He could get on his motorbike and try and get past security, but where would he go after that? There was only one thing for it - get drunk and try to forget all about it. There was a bottle of whisky somewhere in this bloody castle with his name on it.


	5. Chapter 5 - Arya's plan

As soon as Arya kicked the bathroom door shut behind her she screamed with frustration. How could Gendry be so, so…_stupid_?!

First…why did he spring that on her? Asking her to marry him after just two weeks? Come on!

Second…why did he get Renly to buy the engagement ring? Buy _her_ an engagement ring? Cartier! Come on! No matter how small, it would have cost a fortune – way more than Gendry could ever afford. Anyway, how would he have a clue what kind of ring she wanted? Didn't couples go looking for rings together, wandering arm and arm looking in jewellers shop windows for weeks before the girl finally found what she wanted?

It occurred to Arya that part of the reason she was so annoyed was because she would have loved to have the chance to go into Cartier with him, but how shallow was that? An engagement ring was a symbol of commitment wasn't it and what was she committing to if she accepted a huge Baratheon diamond? Then she wondered if it was huge, then she hated herself for thinking like that. But, all the same, she wished she had at least had a peek in the box to see what ring he had chosen. Immediately another wave of self loathing washed over her. How could she be so superficial? Sansa and her friends would obsess over the size of engagement rings, but she wasn't like that - was she?

And third…he was trying to tell her Renly was a Werewolf?! Renly was certainly many things; – rich, charismatic, gay, with excellent taste in clothes and interior design, maybe slightly suspect taste in lovers, as Loras was an arrogant swine, but a Werewolf? She tried to think of a rational explanation for why Gendry could possibly believe that, but couldn't come up with one. Was Gendry being hypnotised? Did Renly have some evil plan to take over the world? Oh, it was all just bullshit! BUT…and there was a but - she had to admit that there was a mystery about Lyanna and why she was never spoken about at home. There was also an incident from her childhood, that she had almost completely forgotten, now niggling away at the back of her mind.

Years ago, when she was still a little girl, around the time Rickon had been born, their father had taken the older kids out. They had driven far into the estate, to a part of the forest she had never been to before, and gone for one of the 'educational walks', their father was so fond of.

Lord Stark when he had time, which wasn't often, had liked nothing better than to show them far flung parts of his vast estate. He introduced them to the people who lived there and impressed upon his children what it meant to be a Stark; their responsibilities for the land and the people who depended upon the Estate - depended upon the Starks - for their livelihood. Her father was trying to teach Rob how to be Lord of Winterfell, but it was Jon who had always been more attentive. Jon hung on their father's every word, memorising everything he was told about the trees, the land and it's people, while Rob was always easily distracted. Sansa and Arya just tagged along, half listening and passing the time by collecting leaves or stones and making lists of the animals they saw.

On the winter day she now remembered, they had been trailing along after the boys as usual. Rob and Jon had gone on ahead and the girls heard excited cries from the boys 'Father come quick – come and see what we've found!' As soon as Ned had caught up to them, he had started yelling 'Get back. Get back!' physically dragging the boys away and ordering them to run back, towards the girls. Of course that had made Sansa and Arya unbearably curious; particularly as Jon had whispered to them that there was a huge wolf, lying dead on its side in the snow.

Their father had used his walki-talkie to contact Jory, demanding he get there with a group of men immediately. Even back then, Arya couldn't understand what had caused their father to panic like that. If the wolf was dead it couldn't harm them, could it? Growing up on a working farm, they were all used to the cycle of birth and death and it was just another dead animal wasn't it? But Arya had never seen her father behave like that, either before or since.

Lord Stark wouldn't tell them what had happened to the carcass, wouldn't even confirm it _had_ been a wolf and they were warned by their mother never to speak about it again. It had been so long ago, the memory had faded to almost nothing, but as soon as Gendry had mentioned Werewolves and the Starks having a secret, that distant memory had come flooding back. Her mother and father's reaction to that event had been identical to any questions about Aunt Lyanna – don't dare ask and never mention it again. She would need to talk to Jon about it. He had been a teenager at the time and was bound to remember more than she did.

Arya sat down on the lid of the toilet waiting for Gendry to knock on the door. That's what he had done last time they had a fight and she expected him to do the same again now. He would come in and they would both still be angry, but they'd eventually both apologise. They would have fun making up and this time she would definitely have a look at the ring. Just a look.

More minutes passed and still he didn't come. She didn't want to be the one to give in first, so she checked her hair in the mirror – as good as could be expected without her hair straighteners, and cleaned her teeth to pass another few minutes until he knocked on the door, but still the knock didn't come. After twenty minutes and, getting fed up waiting on him, she decided to go out into the bedroom, pretend she was starting to get ready for dinner, and give him the opportunity to apologize first.

She went out to see him - only he wasn't there. His clothes and his boots were gone, as was the Cartier box. She checked the other room and both of the dressing rooms, not wanting to get caught, then, when she was sure he was definitely gone, she went to look for the ring. She assumed he had put it back in the drawer but she checked right to the back, then under the bed, then other cabinet but there was no sign of it. Then she checked his rucksack, still sitting on the floor where Penrose had left it after unpacking and it wasn't hidden there either. Shit! He was bull headed enough to do something stupid – like throw it into the sea.

She could go and find him, but if she did, she would have been the first to give in and apologize. No, she wouldn't do that, so she resigned herself to waiting until he came back to her. She was sure he would – eventually. He had no where else to go. While she was waiting she decided she might as well get ready for dinner.

As she started getting undressed, in the quiet of the room she had time to think, really think about everything that had happened the night before. Jon had killed a man. Her wonderful big brother had saved her, and it was self defence, so why hadn't Gendry phoned the police? Why insist on phoning Renly? Arya had been too traumatised at the time to argue, but now she realised the whole awful chain of events; her father turning against Gendry, Sandor watching them, Dr Cressen's death, a Lannister hit man in Gendry's flat, had only happened after Renly came into their lives. If they'd never met him, Arya was sure she and Gendry would be safe together, in bed, back at his flat. And then there was all this 'Renly's a Werewolf' shit that Gendry swore was true. He'd even sworn it on his mother's grave.

Obviously he couldn't be a Werewolf, as they didn't exist, but perhaps Renly wasn't simply the jovial Uncle he pretended to be. A terrible thought occurred to her – that Renly was responsible for Dr Cressen's death. Gendry had assumed it was a Lannister hit, and the fact the Lannister's had come after Gendry the next day, seemed to lend credence to his assumption, but now Arya wasn't so sure.

The Baratheons also had a motive for getting Dr Cressen out of the way. Gendry and she had been present when Renly and the Doctor had argued about involving the police in the Lannister incest case. Dr Cressen had been adamant that he had to report the crime, whereas Renly had been very anxious to keep it as quiet as possible. Would Renly go so far as to get rid of the Doctor rather than risk a huge incest scandal that would damage his beloved Baratheon Empire? It was certainly possible. Perhaps Dr Cressen had outlived his usefulness? He had found the missing Baratheon heir Renly had been looking for and, purpose served, the Doctor may have become more of a liability than an asset. Presumably any Doctor could carry out the actual stem cell transplant as they were fairly routine these days, so had Dr Cressen become dispensable? Was he sacrificed to protect the Baratheon name?

Arya doubted Gendry would share her suspicions as he was so in thrall to Uncle Renly. Obviously Renly wouldn't have harmed the Doctor himself, but he didn't need to. One word to Loras and the car accident could have been easily arranged. Arya only had to remember the ruthlessly efficient way Loras had dealt with the mess in Gendry's flat, to know he was more than capable of making a murder look like an accident. Her stomach tightened with apprehension.

What was Gendry getting himself into with the Baratheons? She looked forward to tomorrow, when she could get as far away from Renly and Loras as possible, but she couldn't leave simply leave Gendry here so he could be brainwashed some more by good old Uncle Renly. Arya decided she _had_ to get Gendry to come with her, before it was too late, but how was she going to do that? She had already told him she was going back to her student flat in London without him.

When the answer came to her, it was blindingly obvious. If she had only agreed to marry him, she could have persuaded him to come to London with her for any number of reasons, like pretending she wanted to show her ring off to Sansa, or looking for a dress, but why would he come now? Why should he leave Storm's End? His flat was probably a pile of ash and he had nowhere else to go. Oh, how could she have been so stupid? Why hadn't she seen this coming? Renly now had his nephew right where he wanted him. Goodness only knew what would happen to Gendry if she left him here. She _had_ to get him to leave with her tomorrow, no matter how she did it. Failure wasn't an option.

-0-

At Winterfell, although there was a family dinner every night, Sunday was the one night everyone was expected to attend. As Winterfell was essential a family home, it was never formal dress though, whereas Storm's End felt like a showcase for Baratheon power and wealth. Well, she was still Lady Stark of Winterfell and would show bloody Renly that the Starks were every bit as aristocratic and cultured as the Baratheons. She would deal with Renly and dismiss this Werewolf nonsense with poise and grace, like Sansa would. She would fight for Gendry and she wouldn't loose. She would show Renly what a Stark was made of.

She flicked through the rails of clothes. Everything was brand new; labels from Jeager, Barbour, Ralph Lauren, still attached, but it was all a bit sophisticated and middle aged for Arya's tastes. She was only twenty and didn't want to look like one of her mother's friends. At the very end of the rail were several garment bags. She unzipped the first to find a garishly multi-coloured silk dress – it was vintage designer – Christian Lacroix, but that wasn't what she was looking for either. The second was instantly more promising, revealing black sparkly material as she slid the zip down. It had a designer label she vaguely recognised - Azzedine Alaïa and it was vintage 1980's; huge shoulder pads, batwing sleeves and a short, tight skirt. It could have been worn by Joan Collins on Dynasty and was so retro it was fashion forward. To her delight, it fitted perfectly. The silhouette was awesome; she had never worn anything with shoulder pads before – who her age had? - but they instantly made her feel fierce and domineering. No wonder this had been called 'Power' dressing and it was exactly how she wanted to feel tonight.

Renly, or Penrose, had surpassed themselves in stocking her wardrobe. There was underwear in every style, and all in the right sizes. She wondered uneasily how long they had to get this wardrobe ready. Until last night, Arya hadn't imagined she would ever be here and yet _someone_ had planned for her to be here and spent a lot of time and money on clothes - enough for a long stay. It was definitely very creepy and the sooner she and Gendry got out of here and back to London, the better she would like it. She would use every weapon in her arsenal to make sure he left with her tomorrow.

A search of the well stocked drawers produced a pair of black stockings, suspender belt, silky French knickers and a lacy black bra. Arya tried not to think about who had chosen the underwear for her, but instead focus on the effect it would have on her man. She would need to be careful not to bend down with that short dress on, but perhaps that could be useful tonight. She had never worn old fashioned suspenders before and, after much fiddling about and one false start when she put the suspenders on over the French Knickers, she got it right and she had to admit there was certainly something super sexy about them.

Finally the shoes - behind a sliding door, there were rows of them, everything from golf shoes to strappy sandals and all in her size; a pair of pointy black stilettos were as sexy and eighties as she could have hoped.

Now she was prepared, she went to investigate Gendry's closet. Again, the drawers revealed boxes of brand new underwear and socks. The shelves were filled with Scott and Lyle, Ralph Lauren and Hugo Boss. Burberry and Acquascutum coats and jackets hung on the rail. It was all very preppy and she couldn't imagine Gendry in any of it. She had only ever seen him in jeans and T shirts or the one suit he'd worn to Robb's pre-wedding dinner and, now she thought about it, he'd never even put the suit jacket on.

Surprisingly there didn't seem to be any suits, but no doubt Renly was planning more shopping; another bonding session – this time on Savile Row, rather than in Cartier. She couldn't find a dinner suit, but Renly was so organised and efficient, she was sure he wouldn't have said black tie if he hadn't provided suitable clothing. Sure enough, hanging on the other side of the room, were several garment bags; the first two held tweedy type, hunting/shooting/fishing outfits that she could only imagine Sherlock Holmes wearing, but the next two contained dinner suits. One was modern Paul Smith, narrow lapels, single button, slim fit, but the other was much more interesting. Like Arya's dress it was straight out of the eighties; black Armani, double breasted, shoulder pads, swooping lapels, pleats at the waist of the trousers and turn ups at the hem. Her joy was complete when she found the trousers came complete with braces. It was fashion gold - not that Gendry would even notice. If she laid it out for him, he would no doubt wear it without question.

She found a wing collar shirt and bow tie to complete the outfit. The shoes were easy too, assuming they all fitted, and she settled on a patent pair of black lace-ups like Renly wore. They were slightly pointed and looked suitably eighties to match the suit. Now feeling very pleased with herself, she set off to get showered and ready to face Renly at dinner.

Arya had just finished doing her hair; she'd had to leave it wavy, as there didn't seem to be any straighteners, when the phone rang. It was Renly, sounding exasperated, warning her Gendry was on his way up and that he was tanked up on whisky. Could she _please _get him ready for dinner, as it was imperative they both attend. Arya confirmed they would be there. With a bit of luck, this might be the last time she would see Renly, so it might be her only opportunity to find out what had happened to her Aunt and she wasn't going to miss it.

A wicked plan formed in her mind. Quickly she turned on the cold tap to fill the huge stone bath. The water poured at tremendous speed out of a copper faucet, and she was pleased to see the bath would be full by the time Gendry arrived.

She stood at the glass wall in the bedroom, wearing one of the white bathrobes over her underwear, waiting on him. Soon, she heard him blundering around in the sitting room before he staggered into the bedroom.

"Hi Honey glad you're home. Can you come and help me please dear?" she purred, as if their fight had never happened.

"What's the matter?" he muttered, staggering towards her, swaying up the steps to the bath.

"I think there's in fish in the bath." It was so stupid; anyone except a drunk would have known it was a joke.

"No way. Where?" he said, peering into the bath, swaying as he stood at the side. Because the bath was so deep and dark, it was hard to see all the way to the bottom.

"There, look!" she pointed to a random spot near the wall. He peered harder.

"Also, I can't get a signal in here dear. Can I borrow your phone so I can text Sansa and let her know I'm ok?"

"Sure" he muttered as he pulled the phone out of his pocket and handed it to her, still trying to see the imaginary fish in the bath.

"Look there it is again Gendry! Kneel down and you might see it better."

"Are you kidding me Arya?" he slurred slowly, eyeing her suspiciously.

"Please Gendry; I don't want to get into the bath if there's a fish in it." She pleaded.

Obligingly, but unsteadily, he knelt at the side of the bath. As she suspected, his wallet was in the back pocket of his jeans. She walked around behind him and in one smooth movement she pulled the wallet out his pocket and gave his backside a hard push with her stiletto shod foot. He tumbled, head first, into the bath.

The splash was tremendous, as 230lbs of drunk, fully clothed Gendry toppled into the cold water. The shocked bellow that followed was equally impressive. Then came the cursing as he tried to get out of the bath in soaking wet jeans and boots.

"Fuck's sake what did you do that for, you bitch?!" He suddenly seemed to have sobered up and was out for revenge. As she didn't fancy a ducking, Arya ran for the other room, robe flying and stiletto heels clacking on the stone and the wooden stairs. She was nearly at the bed by the time he caught her, grabbing the white towelling robe. She managed to shrug it off and escape again, scrambling across the bed, leaving him holding the empty robe.

"If you didn't look so fucking gorgeous in that fancy underwear and if I wasn't so fucking drunk, I'd throw you in that bath right now." He growled, advancing towards her slowly as she backed away, across the bed. His hair was dripping into his eyes, his tight white T shirt was now translucent and his jeans plastered to his legs. He was simply the sexiest thing she had ever seen. Expecting him to grab her any second, and not wanting to get soaked, she backed away further until one leg was on the floor at the far side of the bed. Then he surprised her, by not chasing her any further, instead collapsing face first on the bed groaning

"I'm sooooo fucking drunk."

Wondering if this was a ploy to catch her unawares, she paused and watched him warily. He didn't move and sounded as if he was beginning to snore.

"Gendry – get up!" she ordered. The only answer was a deep groan and another, almost snore. She sighed. Bloody typical - he never did what she wanted him to. She turned to get off the bed and as soon as she did, his hand shot out and grabbed her ankle. She shrieked with surprise and then started yelling at him to let her go as he started dragging her back across the bed by her ankle. Once he had pulled her right across the bed, he let her go. Anticipating his hand pulling down her knickers, and maybe even a spanking, she shivered with anticipation, but instead of the rough handling she expected and surprisingly now wanted, he disappeared. She looked back, over her shoulder, just in time to see him disappear into the bathroom. Bloody typical, she huffed again. He never seemed to do what she wanted.

He hadn't bothered to shut the bathroom door and she heard the toilet being flushed and the taps being run as she walked in. He was bent almost double over the sink, squeezing an excessive amount of toothpaste onto a bush.

"What happened?"

"Umm, I had to run. I'm not feeling too good."

"Were you sick?" she teased

"Well, being shoved into cold water by a hard bitch didn't make me feel too great."

"Oh I see – nothing to do with drinking too much whisky on an empty stomach?"

He glared at her in the mirror, his pale blue eyes cold and fierce.

"More to do with being rejected and getting my heart broken by that hard bitch actually." He replied bitterly.

Arya started at him open mouthed. She had been so annoyed that he hadn't given her any advance warning that he was going to propose and at how stupid he had been not asking her about a ring, that she had never, even for a moment, considered how her arrogant dismissal of his proposal had affected him. Shit! Selfish and uncaring – how many times had she thought that about herself recently? She felt lost and ashamed of her self and panicked all at the one time. How could she have hurt him so much? What if he didn't forgive her? And how could she make sure she got him away from Renly's clutches?

"Ask me again" she said impulsively. If she had expected him to drop to his knee there and then and swear undying love, she would have been disappointed.

"I've had all the humiliation I can take today, thanks." he said sarcastically, still looking at her reflection in the mirror, raw hurt etched across his face.

"_I want to marry you Gendry. I want to wear whatever ring you give me and I want you to never leave me_." she blurted out. Would that be enough? She stood still, warily waiting for his reaction, unsure whether he would take her in his arms or push her away.

"Why would I ever leave you Arya? No games now! Are you sure?" He demanded.

"Yes I'm sure. I was stupid before and I was…surprised. Surprised and shocked. So ask me again and I'll say 'Yes'."

"And the Werewolf thing?" he asked, in all seriousness. That was just too much for Arya, but she couldn't risk him staying at Storm's End with Renly. She might lose him forever.

"Umm. Can we take it one step at a time? Can I say '_not just now_'?" she asked sweetly. He seemed to weigh up his options for a few moments. Dear God, she thought, he was actually considering whether he would marry her if she wouldn't say she would become a werewolf. He must really be brainwashed or mad.

"Ok, I'll take that – _for now_." He said warily and dropped to one knee for the second time that day.

"Will you marry me Arya?"

"Yes!" she declared without hesitation this time. She felt guilty at having manipulated him into this; but she justified it to herself as she _had _to get him away from Renly and by telling herself she _would_ marry him – eventually, in maybe five years or so. That wasn't really lying or deceiving him was it? And she felt something else, something quite unexpected. Having such a strong, arrogant man kneeling before her and wanting her so much gave her a thrill of power unlike anything she had ever experienced before.

"So where's my ring then?" she joked. He didn't laugh and instead seemed rather deflated that she hadn't showered him in kisses and affection. Damn, she'd need to try harder.

"I mean, I'll love it because you chose it and I can't wait to see it." He looked at her suspiciously. Damn, was this too much of a U-turn after shouting at him for letting Renly pay for it? He had to want to leave for London with her tomorrow.

"Uh, it's it my pocket." He put his hand in the front pocket of his jeans and as soon as she looked there, she could see a red circular stain of dye from the Cartier box. Shit. She'd managed to get his phone and his wallet off him before she'd pushed him into the bath, but hadn't thought about the ring.

Gendry extracted the box from his pocket, his fingers red with dye from the saturated velvet box. He held his fist over the sink and squeezed. Red dye ran through his fingers like blood, dripping scarlet against the white porcelain of the bowl. Seeing the red ooze through his fingers instantly took her back to the night before, when Jon had been holding his hand over the Lannister's neck and Arya had watched the blood seep through his fingers. She shut her eyes, trying to get rid of the image. _Blood diamond_. The words invaded her head, like a nightmare. Where had she heard them before? Wasn't that just the name of some movie? The more she tried to banish the image, the louder the words seemed to get and, in her imagination, the more blood Gendry seemed to be able to squeeze from the box. She forced her eyes open to see him running the ring under the tap, the red now turning to pink under the running water.

"Sorry about that" he muttered. "Hope you like it."

He gently took her hand and eased the ring onto the third finger. A diamond solitaire. A huge Baratheon diamond. _Blood diamond._

"Well, do you like it?" he asked expectantly

"Oh yes, I love you!" She flung her arms around his neck and hugged him, wanting to feel him close to her, wanting him to never leave her. She avoided looking at the ring and tried to suppress the feeling of foreboding accepting that bloody diamond had given her.

Unexpectedly, he was cold. He was usually so warm to her touch, but she had forgotten he was still dripping and beginning to shiver.

"Come on Gendry, we need to get to this dinner. Let's get you dressed."

"Awww, no. I feel like shit and I'd rather we just stayed here and celebrated." He moaned. Then, eyes lustfully looking her up and down added "…and I never knew big pants could be so sexy"

"They're not 'big pants' they're French Knickers!"

"Whatever, it's the fucking suspenders that are really doing it for me. Come on, let's go to bed so I can shag you in them." and he tried to grab her thighs. She stepped away before he could reach her. As appealing as that sounded, they had a deadline and she _had_ to hear the Lyanna story. Shagging Gendry would have to wait until after dinner.

"No way, you're getting out of this Gendry! You know Renly won't tell me anything unless you are there, so get in that shower now."

He was beginning to look rather sorry for himself, hung-over or maybe still drunk, wet and shivering. She took pity on him, even though it was his own stupid fault he was in that state.

"Come on, I'll help you." She sighed, turning on the shower.

Before she started undressing him, she paused to admire the view. Through the sopping wet material of his top she could clearly see his hard little nipples and the T shape of the black hair across his chest and abdomen. Every muscle was highlighted to perfection by the clinging white material and she felt that now familiar ache in her French knickers for his hard body against hers. The wet denim clung to his firm arse and chunky thighs. He was as perfect a specimen of fit maleness as she would ever find, and she knew she was mad to even risk losing him, but he did also have the capacity to annoy her more than any other man she had ever known.

She carefully peeled the wet T shirt up, over his head. Raising his arms seemed to cause him a lot of pain, judging by the grimaces and groans. The bruising on his ribs had turned from red to livid purple and spread further around and up his torso. She tried not to look too closely at it and tried to bear in mind that both Jon and Loras had said he'd be fine.

Next, she unbuttoned his jeans and worked the wet denim slowly down his thighs, and this time she did look closely at the big bulge in his boxer shorts, accentuated by the wet cotton. He helped her by stepping out of the jeans, although he swayed slightly. He also managed to peel his own wet socks off. Only the boxers remained and she lovingly eased them down over his rock hard abdomen, hefty penis and those big, meaty balls. It was no hardship to sink to her knees to work them down his legs and she had to hold herself back from just taking his cock in her mouth and practicing those new found blow job skills on him some more. But time was tight and he was still shivering despite the bathroom now being hot and steamy.

"Come into the shower with me?" he pleaded

"No way! I just spent an hour getting ready, but I'll stay here if you hurry up" she huffed, sitting down on the lid of the toilet. She didn't even get a chance to watch him shower, as the cabinet was so full of steam with various jets of water shooting out at different angles that she could hardly see him. As she sat waiting on him, she couldn't help noticing the way the lights kept flashing off the big diamond on her finger. God knows how much it cost. In different circumstances, she might have really loved it, but at the moment it was simply a means to an end.

When he came out, he seemed a lot brighter and dried himself with ruthless efficiency.

"Right, let's get this over with. What am I wearing to this bloody dinner?" She took him into the bedroom and showed him the clothes she had looked out for him.

"Ok, but have I got any underpants or do you prefer me commando?" She blushed, not sure _what_ she preferred, but went into the dressing room to get one of the boxes of underwear for him, while he put the socks on. She handed him the first box that came to hand. He pulled out a small scrap of material

"I'm not wearing them!" he scoffed. "Can you find me a pair of boxers?"

"They're all the same style dear - bikini briefs – it says on the boxes".

" 'Budgie smugglers' more like." He grumbled, but put them on. Arya had to bite her lip to stop herself laughing. She had never heard anything described more accurately, and she wasn't laughing _at_ him - he looked magnificent, the tight, black briefs, stretched over the curves of his buttocks cradled the bulge of his prize cock beautifully at the front.

"Oh, I _much_ prefer these to boxers. I'm glad you've got about twenty pairs." She smirked.

He just rolled his eyes and continued getting dressed.

"Mrs Gendry, are you going to put something on, or are you going to dinner dressed in suspenders and big pants in the hope you can turn Renly straight?"

"Oh, piss off!" she huffed and went off to put on the Azzedine Alaïa dress. He was almost dressed by the time she came back.

"Wow, you look fierce! You look like you're gonna tie me up and whip me!" he teased

"Would you like that big G?" she purred

"Hmmm, I dunno actually. I've never fancied it before, but with you in those suspenders and those shoes, I might.. We've got the rest of our lives together to find out haven't we?" He tried to pull her in for a kiss, but she resisted

"Stop it!" she barked. "We haven't got time for this!" and then she laughed to try and cover the fact that she meant it.

"Ok, boss" he huffed. "But what am I supposed to do with these?" He waved both arms, making the long, unfastened double cuffs of his dress shirt flop around.

"And this?" he waved the black ribbon of the bow tie at her.

"Oh, I forgot the cufflinks, but have you never tied a proper bow tie before?" He didn't bother answering her and just drew her a withering look. She quickly tied his bow tie for him, years of practice on her father and brothers meant she could almost have done it blindfold. Honestly! How had he got through life without learning how to do this? More importantly, how had he expected to cope with moving in Renly's aristocratic circles, if he couldn't even do this? She supposed ignorance was bliss. Unfortunately, she knew from experience how quickly the upper classes could close ranks against you if you didn't fit their mould and Gendry hadn't been to the right school, didn't have the right connections and hadn't been brought up to be a Lord.

The cufflinks proved to be a problem. There were none to be found anywhere. That was so unlike Renly, who seemed to have thought of everything else. Suddenly inspiration struck her. Her father used to keep his favourite cufflinks in the pocket of his dinner jacket, to avoid this very scenario and, sure enough, when Gendry checked, a pair of gold cufflinks, shaped like prancing stags, were stowed safely in the pocket. She fastened them for him and helped him on with his jacket.

"God, this is hot" he moaned, fastening the jacket buttons.

"Uh-Huh, _hot as fuck_." she grinned at him appreciatively. He looked so different in smart clothes – very James Bond.

"I didn't mean like that! I mean with these shoulder pads and all this material around here." He patted the double breasted front of the suit.

"Stop moaning. It's fashion and it's worth it. You look great, but let me fix your hair."

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"It just needs to be smarter to go with the dinner suit. Bend down 'till I put a bit of gel in it." He reluctantly did as he was told, grumbling about it being a bloody stupid idea to have to dress up for dinner anyway. Arya combed his hair back off his forehead and put in a centre parting, just like Gordon Gecko in Wall Street and Lord Robert Baratheon in the portrait. She stood back to admire her handiwork. The resemblance was uncanny. Surprisingly, having his hair swept back didn't make him look like Renly – who always wore his hair like that, instead it emphasised the differences between the two of them. Renly had a high forehead, and those elegant, arched brows, whereas Gendry had a lower hairline and thick, straight eyebrows – just like his father.

She took his hand to leave, but caught sight of herself in the mirror as they walked towards the door. Her hair had been wavy before, but it was wildly curly now. She gasped with surprise.

"EEEK! My hair! I look like one of the Jacksons when _they_ looked like the Jacksons!" The frizzy curls must have been caused by the steam in the bathroom while she watched Gendry shower. When she was younger she had always had it cut really short and the curl in her hair had just made it stick out in awkward places. In the past three years, while she had been growing it, she had always taken great care to straighten it everyday and she had certainly never seen it like this before.

Gendry stood behind her, looking at her in the mirror and playing with a curly bit of hair, coiled on her shoulder. Then he leant down, brushed her hair back from her neck, and kissed her slowly. She closed her eyes, savouring the moment, the calm before the storm. He whispered softly into her neck "I love you fiancé, and I love your hair. I think it's _hot as fuck_."

"Well, there's nothing I can do about it now or we'll be late. Come on."

As they got to the top of the stairs, she pointed out the picture of his father.

"Well, what do you think?"

"Bloody Hell! You did my hair like this deliberately didn't you?!" He glared at her, raising his hand up to his forehead to mess up his hair, but she grabbed his arm before he could run his fingers through his gelled hair.

"Please! Leave it, for me? I think you look awesome and the thought of me messing up your hair later on when we make love is really turning me on." He hesitated.

"You know, you can be a manipulative bitch sometimes Arya?"

She froze, terrified he had realised why she had changed her mind; why she agreed to marry him, but he had a stupid grin on his face. Relief washed over her and she replied

"That's what all my men tell me. Now come on, I'm starving!"


	6. Chapter 6 - Jon

Jon was standing, looking out of the wall of glass, when Arya and Gendry walked into the room. He was wearing a dinner suit, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a drink as he stared out across the water. He looked suave and relaxed, whereas Gendry felt hot, uncomfortable and awkward in his dinner suit. It didn't help that his head was beginning to pound as he sobered up. His mood didn't improve when Jon noticed them coming in, exclaimed

"No-one told me this was supposed to be fancy dress!" and started guffawing with laughter.

"What do you mean?" Gendry huffed looking down at his suit. It looked ok to him.

"Oh, just ignore him Gendry. He wouldn't know fashionable if it popped up in his porridge!" Arya retorted

"Yeah? Well if you two popped up in my porridge I'd think I'd fallen into a time warp! What's with the 80's revival Arya? Are you trying to look like Cher?" and with that Jon started laughing again at his own joke.

"Oh piss off Jon!" Arya snapped

"I told you not to do my hair like this!" Gendry moaned at her "Can I mess it up now?"

"It's not the hair mate, it's the shoulder pads – you look like an American football player!" Jon spluttered.

"Right, the jacket's coming off!" Gendry hissed at Arya, who tried half heartedly to protest. As he took off the jacket Jon saw the braces and that set him off again.

"And you fuck right off Jon" Gendry muttered as he tried to find somewhere to hang his jacket.

Gendry hadn't noticed Penrose until he started looking around. The butler was standing near the door, open mouthed, holding a tray of gin and tonics.

"Oh Hi Penrose. Can you show me where I can hang my jacket please?"

Gendry's words startled Penrose back into action. He recovered his composure, set the tray down on the table and addressed Gendry.

"I'll take that from you Sir. I hope you don't mind me saying, seeing you and Miss Stark dressed like that gave me quite a turn. You are so alike Sir Robert and Lady Lyanna that I quite forgot myself."

"Yeah, I know." Gendry grumbled. "I saw Robert's painting at the top of the stairs. I think Arya is deliberately trying to make me look like him." Gendry scowled at Arya and then asked Penrose for a pint of water and some paracetamol adding "and none of that prescription shit this time. Those pills really knocked me out earlier."

"Oh, was it the pills Sir? Would you like me to bring your bottle of Talisker whisky? I believe there's still some left over from this afternoon." Penrose asked archly. Arya couldn't help sniggering as Gendry grimaced at the suggestion

"Err, no thanks Penrose. Water will do fine just now."

Penrose took Gendry's jacket and left as Renly and Loras arrived. Loras looked as suave as Jon in his dinner suit. Renly's suit was rather more eye catching, being midnight blue rather than black and trimmed with velvet. No-one could have denied they made a handsome couple; Renly, dark and elegant with a ready smile, Loras cold, blond and arrogant. Tonight their faces wore matching expressions of shock when they saw Gendry and Arya.

"God's sake! Where did you get those clothes?" Renly stuttered in shock.

"In our room – where else?" Arya answered, pushing her shoulders back and standing with her hand on her hip. She was determined Renly wasn't going to intimidate her tonight.

"Don't move! I've got a picture somewhere you need to see!" and he rushed out the room, leaving Loras to stroll over and pick up a gin and tonic. Loras composed himself quickly.

"That was quite a state you were in this afternoon Waters. Having an obnoxious drunk around the place again, reminds me of the bad old days, when your father was here. Has anyone ever mentioned that you're just like him?" Asked Loras, eyeing Gendry with ill concealed contempt over his Gin and Tonic

"Who pays your wages Loras?" Gendry sneered. "Is it Renly or is it the Company?" Gendry's question had obviously hit its intended mark as Loras's eyes narrowed to slits and his face twisted with anger.

"I think you'd better watch your tongue Loras and don't bite the hand that feeds you – eh?" Gendry continued, enjoying goading Loras and still drunk enough not to care that Loras wasn't going to let himself be spoken to like that. The head of Baratheon security obviously had to use a tremendous amount of self control to stop himself from punching Gendry and, in Renly's absence, it was left to Jon to intervene

"Gendry – shut the fuck up. You're still drunk and you're about to get decked. Loras – please try and ignore him. He's never had any manners and is a subtle as a brick in the mouth." Jon drew Gendry a warning look, making his best mate grumble under his breath, however it was enough to make Gendry stomp off and flop down on an over stuffed couch. Embarrassed and anxious not to see the evening ruined before it began, Arya hurried over to sit beside Gendry and try to calm him down.

Fortunately Penrose returned with Gendry's water and pills and Renly wasn't too far behind. He was clutching an ornate gold picture frame and thrust it towards Arya exclaiming

"I knew Robert still had it somewhere! What do you think of that?"

Arya took the heavy frame. She nearly dropped it in shock.

"Oh my God! It's us! I can't believe it. Look at this Gendry" and she handed the picture to Gendry. "All my life people who knew Lyanna have been telling me I look like her, but I've never even seen a picture of her until now and tonight I'm wearing her dress and that could be me in the picture and Lord Robert looks just like you Gendry!" Arya babbled, overcome with emotion at finally seeing a picture of her long lost Aunt and realising history was repeating itself. There was Lyanna, in the same dress with Robert's arm around her waist. The two of them were smiling broadly for the camera and obviously very much in love.

"So what happened Renly? You _need_ to tell me now." Arya pleaded.

"Oh, I will, but after we eat. It's a long story and dinner is ready. I think our young heir here needs something in his stomach." Renly nodded to his nephew who was sitting staring at the picture, face white as a sheet.

"Are you ok Gendry?" Arya asked with concern, resting her hand on his thigh.

"Shit Arya. I had no idea. I mean, Lyanna's beautiful and she looks just like you and…Shit, just look at them..." he trailed off. Everyone in the room knew what he meant. Robert and Lyanna had obviously been in love, and now Lord Robert was at death's door and Lyanna had been dead for years. The last time a Baratheon loved a Stark it hadn't exactly had a fairytale ending.

Penrose cleared his throat and announced 'Dinner is served in the dinning room.' The five of them made their way through, Arya and Gendry both lost in their own thoughts, separately contemplating the unfortunate fate of their look-alike relatives.

Evening sunlight bathed the dinning room in a golden glow, glinting off the copious amounts of gold decoration. Sumptuous would have been the best way to describe it. Every individual thing in the room was luxurious, elegant, and tasteful and it all came together in an exquisite vision of red and gold. It was all obviously designed to showcase Renly's immaculate taste and the Baratheon wealth. Jon, Gendry and Arya uttered a collective 'wow' as they walked in.

The room could have accommodated a table three times as large, but tonight a modest sized table was set for five, with gold plate, candelabras and a rich red tablecloth. Renly made for the head of the table, Loras the other end, leaving Jon to sit on one side, Arya and Gendry the other. Gendry remembered his manners and pulled Arya's chair out for her, much to Arya's relief while the other men stood, waiting for her to be seated.. She didn't want to give Loras any further excuse to belittle her fiancé. Remembering they were now engaged made her touch the diamond ring self-consciously, an action Renly noticed immediately.

"Dear God, I've been so distracted by your appearance that I never noticed your engagement ring Arya! Congratulations to you both!" Before any of the men had a chance to sit down, Renly was over, giving Arya a bear hug and pumping Gendry's hand up and down furiously.

Gendry glanced across the table at Robb to gauge his reaction. Gendry wished he'd had a chance to tell his best mate what he had planned and to get his blessing to marry his little sister. He had also intended to ask Jon to be his best man, but with everything that had happened he simply hadn't had the opportunity. It was hard to tell how Jon was taking the news. His lips were pursed together and his expression serious, but he congratulated them both, solemnly hugging Arya and shaking Gendry's hand. Loras stood impassively, saying nothing, however Renly said enough for both of them,

"I'm so happy for you! You make a wonderful couple and I'm sure you're going to have a long and happy life together." Although Renly no doubt meant well, that reminded Gendry of his father and Arya's aunt. Thinking about them again, combined with his pounding headache made him wish Renly would just shut up. But Renly was obviously delighted and excited by the news and called for Krug champagne.

"I've been keeping it chilled in the hope we would have something to celebrate!" he explained to them all and winked conspiratorially at Gendry, who groaned quietly. Penrose brought two bottles of vintage champagne in gold ice buckets, inevitably bearing the Baratheon stag and five gold rimmed, crystal champagne flutes. Renly popped the first cork with a flourish, before passing the bottle to Penrose to pour. When all five glasses were charged Renly proposed a toast to the happy couple.

"To the beautiful Lady Arya of House Stark and our heir, Gendry of House Baratheon. May you have a long and happy life together and unite our two great houses in a common cause!"

Even Gendry thought that a curious declaration, but they all clinked their glasses together and Loras, Jon and Renly joined in with 'To the happy couple!'

It was all Gendry could do to take one sip if the champagne. Even without a hangover, he'd never been a fan of the stuff and this one was particularly dry and yeasty, but mercifully there was water on the table and the salmon starter arrived quickly. While the others discussed the day's golf, he slaked his thirst and filled his empty stomach. He had been blissfully ignoring what he considered to be the others inane conversation about golf, until Renly asked him a direct question, forcing him to reply.

"So, what handicap do you play off Gendry?"

"None. I don't play golf."

Renly almost choked on his champagne.

"What do you mean you don't play golf? _Everyone_ plays golf!"

"You mean ever rich bastard that went to a private school and doesn't have to work plays golf." Gendry retorted scathingly.

"Ha! But you're that rich bastard now aren't you?" Loras sneered. "How about I teach you?" Shouldn't take me more than a couple of years." Jon couldn't help himself sniggering at that.

"It's a waste of a good walk. So no thanks."

Renly seemed exasperated by his nephew's attitude.

"But it's where half of our business deals are done Gendry! We maintain a corporate membership at several of the best courses around London. Surely you must have played a bit? Enough to knock around the course and we can get you a few lessons?" Renly pleaded. Then added "from a _Professional" _as he glared at Loras.

"Nope. Not interested."

Renly looked to Arya for support. At first she just shrugged, but then he mouthed "_please?_" at her. She sighed. Unfortunately Renly was right. If Gendry wanted to get anywhere in business he was going to need to play golf. Although she didn't want him playing 'Chairman of the board' with Renly, if she was honest with herself she didn't really want him working in Baratheon's garage all his life either.

"I'll teach you sometime babe." She told him, squeezing Gendry's hand reassuringly.

"Oh come on Arya!" Jon butted in. "You're not good enough. If anyone's teaching him, it'll be me."

"Will you listen to yourselves!" Gendry barked. "No-one's teaching me anything. You can all fuck off as I'm not doing it. Right Renly; tell us this bloody Lyanna story so I can get to my bed. I've got to get up for work in the morning and I feel like shit."

"You're not going back work tomorrow!" Renly and Arya chorused together.

"Glad we agree on that Arya! Ladies first!" Renly said magnanimously, nodding at Arya to continue.

"I want to go to London Gendry. We've err….got lots of things to do for the engagement." She pleaded, giving him her best 'puppy dog eyes' look.

"What? I'm not going to London to do girly stuff. I've got to get to my work or Tobho will kill me!" Gendry replied pulling a face at Arya.

"I've already notified Mr Mott that you won't be back." Renly joined in.

"What?" Gendry bellowed, slamming his fist on the table, making the cutlery and crystal jump.

"Well, I told him you won't be back _for a while" _qualified Renly; realising Gendry wasn't going to accept his interference readily and backtracking as quickly as he could.

"Come on Gendry, your ribs are cracked and you've got that stem cell donation on _Wednesday. _Dr Cressen, bless his soul, said you should have a few days rest before and after. At least take the week off. Mr Mott told me you have _weeks_ of holiday accrued anyway."

That seemed to calm Gendry down and he grumbled "I suppose so, but I'm not going bloody shopping in London Arya." He huffed, scowling at his fiancé.

"Ok, ok, we'll just hang out at my flat for a few days then. Chillax."

Although Gendry brightened up at the thought of spending a few days alone with Arya, Loras had something to say about that.

"Where's your flat Arya and what's the building like?"

Arya told him.

"Out of the question." He said curtly.

"What?" Gendry bellowed again

"It's my responsibility to keep you two safe, at least until Wednesday, and a ground floor flat in a crowded area is too vulnerable. So it's not happening." Loras pronounced.

"You can't tell _me_ what to do!" Gendry roared, standing up this time. Loras immediately stood up to face him.

"You think you could even get out of Storm's End without my say so?" He taunted "Wake up Waters. You'll do as I say if you want to stay alive. The Lannisters want you and your pretty fiancé dead. If the two of you want to live to see Wednesday you'll stay here until **I** say you can go!" Lora's eyes were flashing a curious shade of amber. Perhaps it was only a reflection of the early evening sun?

Gendry knocked his chair over as he tried to get away from the table and at Loras. Renly grabbed his nephew, restraining him easily and forcing him to turn away from Loras.

Gendry recoiled with fright when he saw the orange werewolf irises replace Renly's own blue.

"Now listen to me boy. You'll do as Loras says or we'll make you. Understand?" Renly snarled. Gendry didn't answer.

"_Understand?_" Renly growled from deep in his throat, reverberations from that one word seeming to echo around the room.

"Yessss!" Gendry hissed through gritted teeth, grimacing with pain as Renly exerted more pressure on his arms.

"Now sit down boy and we'll _discuss_ the situation like the Gentlemen we are."

Gendry fumbled for his overturned chair and sat down heavily in it as soon as he had it upright. Loras slowly sat down too, while Jon and Arya sat uncomfortably, shocked into silence by the confrontation they had just witnessed.

"I am about to suggest a compromise and I expect _you all _to consider it before replying." Renly glared at them individually before he continued

"I agree Gendry and Arya need some time together and understandably Arya has things to attend to in London, and I also know Loras has their best interests at heart when he advises them to stay here. So, as a compromise, I suggest Loras picks a location, _can we say an appropriate hotel Loras?"_ The head of security nodded his consent "in London where he can ensure your safety and you two get to stay in London _as long as you do as you're told!"_

Gendry nodded meekly and Arya said 'Yes' with a sigh of relief.

"Now that's agreed, can we _please _enjoy the rest of our meal in a civilised manner?"

Everyone mumbled their agreement.

"Will you tell us about Lyanna now please?" Arya asked politely, as much to change the subject as to hear the story.

"Oh God. After dinner. I need a few more drinks first dear. Penrose, can we have some wine. I don't think I'll bother with any more champagne."

Arya tried to hide her disappointment at another delay.

The conversation turned to focus on Jon, the only neutral person at the table.

"A man like you would be useful around here" Loras stated as he clasped Jon's shoulder "Security have got two more bodies to protect now." He nodded across the table to Gendry and Arya. "Round the clock surveillance for two more is a lot of extra man hours."

"But I don't know anything about body guarding or close protection, or whatever it's called" Jon said in surprise

"Well, you've already saved two lives haven't you? That's a hell of a good going for someone with no Forces experience." Loras replied.

"Were you in the army Loras?" Arya asked

"Well, the Air Force. Straight out of school to RAF college at Cranwell, first commission with the Paras and finished a Captain."

"I'm impressed you knew what you wanted to do straight out of school!" exclaimed Arya

"I come from a military family. I've got an older brother who'll inherit the family home and title, so The Forces is the traditional career for the younger sons." he shrugged.

Renly butted in "You should tell them the whole story Loras! He was in the SAS for eight years but pretends he doesn't like to talk about it." All eyes turned to Loras, regarding him with renewed respect, but he didn't acknowledge Renly's urging to elaborate and simply continued eating.

"The Tyrell's are an aristocratic family from the south – from Highgarden." Renly continued, "Perhaps you know Margaery – Loras's sister?" he asked Arya

"Of course! She's a friend of my sister Sansa really, but Gendry and I had dinner with her last week and she's one of the bridesmaids at my brother Robb's wedding."

"Oh, you never mentioned a wedding Loras!" Renly exclaimed. Loras groaned and rolled his eyes.

"_If_ she told me, I wasn't listening because I'm not interested." He drawled while topping up his and Jon's wine glasses

"You've no sense of romance Loras! I'll get the gossip from Margaery herself next time she's here. So the Starks will have two weddings to celebrate! Your mother must be _so_ pleased Arya!"

It was Arya's turn to roll her eyes and sigh.

"Umm, well yeah, something like that …"

"So why did you leave the SAS Loras?" asked Gendry, trying to change the subject. He and Arya hadn't discussed actually getting married yet, and if he let Renly in on wedding arrangements, he'd have the society wedding of the year arranged at Storm's End faster than you could say 'over the top'.

"I wanted a life. Stay in the forces too long and it's too late to pick up the pieces in Civvy Street. I met Renly and here I am." Loras shrugged again.

"We met and fell in love." Renly smiled indulgently across the table at Loras. For the first time Gendry saw an emotion other than anger or disgust flicker across Loras's steely countenance. He momentarily looked embarrassed and his eyes flicked to Jon, as if he was anxious to gauge Jon's reaction, but Jon was listening impassively to Renly. Loras's cold mask returned in moments.

However, Gendry had seen enough to know that Loras didn't seem to be quite as loved up as Renly and that his Uncle's demonstrative openness obviously grated against Loras's Special Forces machismo. He wondered if Loras had an ulterior motive for wanting Jon to stay at Storm's End – the two of them certainly seemed to get on well and Jon didn't appear to find Loras to be the obnoxious arse that Gendry did. Maybe he should mention his suspicions to Jon? But what the hell, Jon was a big boy and could look after himself, and anyway, it would suit Gendry if Jon hung around. He would have an ally he trusted implicitly – trusted with his life, and he would need all the help he could get against whatever was going to be thrown at them next.

"Loras has been the best thing to happen to the Baratheons for many years. He deals with all of our security err…issues, and we simply couldn't operate without his firm hand at the helm." Renly's voice was full of admiration and respect for his lover.

"I could do with a right hand man to help me as Renly keeps me busy." Loras explained to Jon

"I bet he does" smirked Gendry

Ignoring him, Loras continued, "Which leaves me needing assistance more than ever now because of Lord Smart Arse here. So think about it."

"That's a kind offer, but I've got something in the pipeline already." Jon declined politely. Gendry knew Jon was referring to the French expedition to Everest he was hoping to join. Gendry had already decided he would _MUCH_ rather deal with Jon than Loras and that it would be good for Arya and him if Jon accepted the job, so he intended to persuade Jon to agree.

"Well, how about after Everest? What are you going to do then? You know I owe you already Mate. You saved Arya's life - and mine. There's no-one else I'd rather have at my side" Gendry looked pointedly at Loras as he said that. Loras ignored the slight and continued trying to persuade Jon himself

"You could start learning Krav Maga straight away. Believe me, you'll be fitter than you've ever been before if you stay here with me. It'll be a great start for your training for Everest. Certainly better than…what is it you do at Winterfell anyway Jon?"

"Umm, I suppose I'm team boss for the forestry crew. It's not really management though, just making sure my team are all safe while we're working really."

"See!" said Loras delightedly, "What we do is the same, only it's not trees falling on us we worry about here, it's bloody Lannisters!"

"Yeah, it's ideal Jon. Come and work for us and _I'll _give you however much time you need off for Everest." Gendry added enthusiastically. Loras snorted his annoyance at Gendry's interference; particularly as Gendry was taking it upon himself to offer Jon the time off.

"You got a problem with that Loras? Renly?" Gendry snarled. Loras said nothing, but looked to Renly who nodded his approval towards Gendry, much to Loras's obvious annoyance.

"And we'll double your current salary Jon" Renly offered magnanimously

"Bugger that! Gendry exclaimed. He knew this was an opportunity to thank Jon for saving his life, and Arya's. "I know what he earns just now and if you're working for us we'll pay you ten times what the Starks do."

Arya choked on her wine and Renly raised an eyebrow in surprise at his nephew's offer.

"You got a problem with that Uncle?" Gendry challenged

"Of course not! I'm pleased to see you taking control of business so soon. I know I've said it before, but you really are _so_ like your father." Renly remarked smoothly.

"In _so _many ways." Loras added sarcastically.

"So, Jon, do we have a deal?" Renly offered his hand. Jon hesitated for mere seconds before accepting the proffered hand and shaking it enthusiastically

"So, when do I start?"

"How about tomorrow?" Loras drawled. "Renly's got business to attend to in London. We could all go up together. We need to prepare for Wednesday." Gendry caught his Uncle's eye. Renly nodded imperceptibly. The Full Moon. Obviously plans were afoot already.

"Why not!" Jon declared. "I've already given notice to Jory that I'm leaving and I'll get Sam to send on my stuff." Arya seemed the only one not happy with Jon's new job and blurted out

"But Jon, this is so dangerous. Shouldn't you at least think about it a bit? And what will Dad say? You can't just up and leave like this!" Arya seemed panicked by the thought of Jon staying at Storm's End. Before Jon had time to answer, Gendry jumped in

"But Arya, he'll be here with _us_, earning ten times what he was before and you know he was going to leave anyway. This couldn't have worked out any better. Right mate?" He grinned across at Jon who grinned straight back. The bargain had been struck and Arya wasn't going to be able to persuade either of them otherwise.

After dinner they moved to the library where Penrose was waiting with heavy crystal glasses of whisky. Renly produced a humidor full of the finest Cuban cigars. He passed it around and each of the men took one. The guillotine cigar cutter followed. It was obvious to everyone that Gendry didn't know what he was supposed to do with it and Ayra hurriedly showed him how to cut the cap. Noticing Gendry's struggle with the guillotine, Renly passed the cedar spill around the other room in the opposite direction, starting with Loras who first lit the spill from one of the fat candles on the table then used the spill to expertly light the cigar. Jon followed with practiced ease and Gendry copied their actions. Once all four cigars were lit, they relaxed back in their chairs, basking in the glow from the setting sun, ready to listen to Renly tell them about Lyanna. The atmosphere in the room was charged with anticipation. The four of them sipped their drinks and watched Renly expectantly as he pulled on his cigar and blew lazy smoke rings across the room.

Finally, as Arya was about to explode with impatience he began…

TO BE CONTINUED…


	7. Chapter 7 - Lyanna's story

**Lyanna's story**

It was 1985…

Robert was 26; Lyanna must have been a few years younger. Margaret Thatcher was half way through her reign as Prime Minister, Ronald Regan was President of the USA and Gorbachev came to power in the USSR. The Cold war was at its height, Michael Jackson was still black and we all thought George Michael was straight.

I was twelve and Storm's End was a bleak, draughty old castle that hadn't seen many changes in the previous 100 years. I remember we only had two telephones in the whole castle; one in the library and one in the entrance hall. They were big, old, black bakelite things with the dials that you used to put your finger in and spin around.

Robert had already made his first million and was well on his way to making more. A million in those days really meant something you know. He had turned the family garage business around – opening showrooms in affluent areas, focusing on luxury German cars; Mercedes, BMW and Porsche rather than the British Leyland and Vauxhall cars we'd sold in the past - dragging it upmarket really. When that bored him, he moved onto asset stripping. Buying up failing British companies, shipping their machinery and plant over to emerging markets, where the labour costs were a fraction of what they were here and selling the land for housing at a huge profit. He must have been one of the first 'Yuppies' now I come to think about it – loads of money, the Porsche, the clothes and most of all the attitude. An arrogance and self belief I've rarely seen in anyone else either before or since.

You'll know, of course, that Robert and Ned Stark were best friends at school.

_Arya and Jon looked blankly at each other then Arya told Renly that they had never heard their father mention Robert's name once. _

Strange. I understood that the two of them had been sent as boarders to Gordonstoun School aged seven and had bonded in their misery there. I believe they'd lost touch somewhat, until Robert opened the garage in Winterfell where you were working Gendry.

_Gendry bristled when Renly used the past tense to describe his job, but, to avoid interrupting the story, said nothing_.

That was at the end of 1984 and that was when Robert first met Lyanna.

The way Robert told it to me, it was love at first sight. He and Ned were in the Porsche, slowly making their way up the long drive to Winterfell when a girl on a horse galloped along side them and started racing the car. Robert though he'd seen a vision of an angel, long hair flying behind her as she overtook them. Of course Robert had no intention of letting a horse outrun his Porsche, so he easily overtook her, only to have her cut across the lawns, jump the horse over a fence and arrive in front of the house before them. As soon as he saw her slide down off that horse, he was smitten and the feeling appeared to be mutual. From then on, when he wasn't working, he was either with Lyanna at Winterfell or she was here with him.

I vividly remember feeling that Storm's End woke up when she was here. She laughed so much, that I've never since felt this castle to be as happy as it was in those days. To me, as a twelve year old boy, she was like a breath of fresh air. Suddenly Robert was interested in the old castle and he started repairs and redecoration, encouraging Lyanna to hire painters and craftsmen to decorate the castle in any way she wanted. I have no doubt Robert intended that she would one day be Lady Baratheon of Storm's End and gave her free reign and an open wallet to do whatever she wanted. She and I used to pour over books of fabric samples and she'd ask me what I thought about the designs she had in mind for the ironwork and the woodcarvings. No doubt she was humouring me, but she made a lonely little boy feel that his ideas mattered and let me believe it was my idea to put the Baratheon Sigil into the redecoration.

Even Robert was different around her. His mood lightened and he'd even joke around with me. I swear that, in the first weekend Lyanna was here, he spoke more to me in that one weekend, than he had in all my previous twelve years put together.

After she left, Penrose and I used to reminisce about how happy they had been together and how much she'd improved Storm's End in the short time she had been here. After it was clear she wasn't coming back, Robert lost interest in the castle again and threw himself into his work. He was more driven, more ruthless than he had ever been before and my relationship with him was back to the way it was before – non existent. He wasn't the only one who was devastated when she left. So, it was left to me, some ten years later, to re-start the refurbishment of Storm's End that your Aunt Lyanna had begun.

It was quite a few years after she left that Robert became involved with Tywin Lannister. What a fateful meeting that was. It was the early 1990's and Britain was sliding into another recession. Robert was paying the price for expanding too far too fast and he needed cash quickly and lots of it. The Lannisters are notorious for many things, but most notorious of all for having plenty of money. I believe they own most of King's landing and Tywin Lannister is a crafty old devil. He agreed to give Robert the cash he needed but the price Robert had to pay would ruin him. Not only did Robert sign away a substantial percentage of Baratheon Holdings to the Lannisters, Tyrion foisted his daughter, Cersi on Robert as part of the deal. There was much talk at the time of combining our two great houses for the further advancement of both. Certainly there was no love on his side – I don't think he could ever bring himself to open his heart to anyone again after Lyanna. I find it hard to believe that Robert saw marriage to Cersi as anything other than yet another business deal.

And there, dear friends, is where many of our current problems originate.

However, before I proceed with my character assassination of Cersi Lannister and her scheming family, I assume you want to know why Lyanna never returned?

_Gendry, Arya and Jon nodded quickly in agreement_.

Well, this was a mystery to me for many years as Robert would never talk about it. We did hear certain parts of it again and again when he was in his cups.

"_We're still hearing the same old stories now when he is delirious from the morphine in the hospital" Loras added._

But there are certain aspects he simply refuses to discuss, or perhaps has chosen to forget. I don't presume to know everything, so I can only tell you what I know. However, I believe Lord Eddard Stark is the only one, other than Robert, who knows what really happened all those years ago. As we will never have the chance to hear Lyanna's version of events, I suggest that you ask your Father to tell you the truth one day. I can only tell you what I have managed to glean from discussions over the years with their contemporaries and the more recent enquiries Loras and I have been undertaking.

I have no doubt that Robert loved Lyanna with a passion few people experience in their lives. He would have done anything for her, but it seems that Lyanna's passion was not quite as all encompassing. Robert himself was often physically distant, working long days and nights in The City, wheeling and dealing and carving out his Empire. Lyanna was still a young girl when he was already a millionaire, captain of industry and driven to succeed at anything he turned his attention to. With the benefit of hindsight and life experience, I can only guess that Lyanna began to feel that Robert's devotion to his business eclipsed his devotion to her. However, I suspect Robert must have believed his relationship with Lyanna was secure as, by all accounts, he was working eighteen hour days, weekends, whatever was necessary to close the deal. As there was no internet and instant communication, I suspect that a young girl could imagine herself neglected. Would you agree that my suspicion could be correct Arya?

_Arya nodded hesitantly._

So, in the summer of 1985, everything came to a head. The 13th July 1985, Wembley Stadium to be precise. Robert had obtained two back stage passes from one of the sponsors to the Live Aid concert. I remember it was a beautiful day and I'd been outside playing in the morning, but everyone and I mean, everyone, was glued to their TV's that day to watch the concert. I remember being so worried that Phil Collins wasn't going to make it to Philadelphia for the second concert, but of course you had Concorde in those days, so I needn't have worried! I was so jealous that Robert and Lyanna were going and that they weren't taking me. My God, how different things might have been if they had.

The concert was starting at noon. Robert had arranged to meet Lyanna in a pub nearby as he was working in London and she was coming from Winterfell. He had one of the first mobile phones - it was like a shoulder bag with a handset on the top. I remember it was as heavy as a brick, with a battery that lasted half an hour and needed to be charged up over night. I was absolutely fascinated by it then and Robert let me use it occasionally if it had any battery life left before he put it on to charge at night. The idea of _walking around_ while speaking on the phone was so exciting! You young folk just cannot imagine the thrill we got from that. Anyway, I digress. Robert had a mobile phone, but of course Lyanna didn't, so when he didn't turn up, she had no way of getting in touch with him and no doubt sat waiting on him in the pub while everyone else made their way into the stadium. I would suspect that, as soon as she saw Status Quo on the pub TV, opening the concert with 'Rocking' All Over the World', she decided to head into the stadium on her own – I certainly would have. Who would want to miss that? So Lyanna was backstage at the concert of the century and Robert didn't turn up. Well, a beautiful girl on her own with all those musicians wasn't going to be alone for long was she? At Live Aid, Lyanna Stark met Rheagar Targaryen. Do you know the name?

_Jon and Gendry exchanged shocked glances – but neither replied to Renly's question._

He was a huge rock star in the seventies, lead singer of the band 'Targaryen', named after himself of course. However, by the time Live Aid came along he had fallen out with the rest of the band and Prog Rock was considered old hat.

_What's 'Prog Rock' please Renly? Arya asked, but it was Jon who answered before Renly could _

"_It was a British attempt to give greater artistic weight and credibility to rock music. Progressive rock intended to break the boundaries of traditional rock music by bringing in a greater and more eclectic range of influences, including free-form and experimental compositional methods, as well as new technological innovations._

_Arya didn't look very impressed with that answer and screwed her nose up. Jon sighed before continuing_

"_If I tell you bands like Pink Floyd, Genesis and Yes were 'Prog Rock' - does that give you the idea?"_

"_Ok, old 70's shit granddad music? – I get it now." Arya shrugged while Jon and Gendry rolled their eyes in exasperation._

Do you know that's what people thought of Queen back then? Old and boring has-been's until they blew everyone away with a masterful live performance. Rheagar Targaryen was a superb live performer in his day - just as charismatic as dear old Freddie Mercury and I have wondered what would have happened if Rhaegar had managed to get the old band together one more time for Live Aid. Would it have been Targaryen and not Queen who enjoyed a stunning renaissance? But Rheagar didn't have the foresight to mend bridges with his band and so he was also there on his own. I believe you can see him at the back in the finale when they all gather on the stage to sing 'Feed the world'. I'm told Rhaegar and Lyanna left together immediately afterwards.

Having since spoken to a few of the other musicians who were there, I understand it didn't take the old dog long to home in on such a beautiful young girl and they spent the day getting to know each other and well, she left with him on a helicopter. He had a private jet waiting at Heathrow to take them back to his villa in the south of France and Robert lost her forever.

It was weeks before Robert knew what had happened and he was frantic with worry and sick with remorse. Ned got a phone call from Lyanna fairly soon after, to let him know she was safe, but, of course, she didn't want Ned to tell Robert where she was, or who she was with. Lyanna knew Robert well enough to predict that he would come looking for her and try and persuade her to come back with him. I think that was the cause of the first major fall out between Ned and Robert - Ned refusing to tell him where she was. Robert was frantic and took desperate measures to try and get her back. First it was private detectives to find her and then, when they found her, he went to France himself to bring her back. He never got to see her – Rheagar made sure of that, and Robert was rejected again.

Even though she had left him for another man, he was obsessed with Lyanna.

"_Twenty seven years later and he's still fucking obsessed with her!" Loras interjected_

Thank you for pointing that out Loras. Yes he is now and he was then. Eventually, she returned to Winterfell and I don't know why she came back, but she did, early in 1986. By this time she was pregnant. There seemed to be no doubt, even in Robert's mind, that the baby was Rheagar's. However, Robert was still desperate to have her and pleaded with her to marry him, promising to bring the child up as his own.

"_My God, we've had to listen to him repeat that promise hundreds of times, when he's been drunk" added Loras_

Now, from here the trail becomes very murky as Lyanna never left Winterfell after that and I have found no-one able to tell me what happened there after Lyanna's return. Even Robert becomes vague when questioned on what happened next. So I had Loras obtain a copy of Lyanna's death certificate, which lists the cause of death as simply 'misadventure' and, while I have my suspicions, I fear we will never really know how Lyanna died, unless either of the Lords Stark or Baratheon choose to enlighten us.

However, it is the date of her death that is particularly relevant now. The 24th April 1986. Do you recognise that date Jon Snow?

_Everyone gaped at Jon as he managed to stutter "But that's my birthday!"_

Exactly! We know Lyanna was pregnant when she returned to Winterfell and, if we assume the child was conceived in the early days of her relationship with Rheagar, during the summer of 1985, then the child would have been due in the spring of 1986. You'll know that your birth certificate gives Ned Stark's name as the father and as the person who registered the birth, but the name of the mother - Wylla Sand, as far as we can gather, is fictitious. No woman of that name, of child bearing age, ever lived in Westeros, or indeed the UK.

"_Wylla Sand" Jon repeated slowly. That's not the birth certificate I've seen! The mother's name was blank on mine!" Jon gasped, bewildered. "How can that be? I don't know what to believe now"._

_Loras, who was sitting nearest to Jon, slid along the leather couch and put his arm around the younger man's shoulder and hugged him reassuringly._

"_I know this must be hard to accept, but believe me Jon, you can't register a birth without a mother's name. I suspect you've seen a doctored certificate. Renly sent me to check the central register of Births, Marriages and Deaths in Westeros and I've seen it with my own eyes. 'Wylla Sand' was entered in the original documents. Wylla Sand – a woman who never existed."_

"_But why would our father, I mean Ned Stark, say he was Jon's father when he wasn't?" Arya wailed at Renly._

_Renly sighed slowly and carefully rested his cigar on the nearest ashtray, giving himself time to consider his reply. _

"I have no proof of this – only my suspicions and I warn you all that this must never been repeated beyond these walls. Swear it to me!"

_Arya, Jon and Gendry all had to repeat "I swear" before Renly would continue._

"I suspect Robert had a hand in Lyanna's death. His temper is legendary and I believe that, where Lyanna was concerned, he simply couldn't control himself. Her repeated rejection of him;- when she ran off with Rhaegar Targaryen, when she refused to return to Westeros with him, when she finally returned and refused to marry him, could have led him to decide that – if he couldn't have her, then no-one would. Perhaps, with the baby due imminently, he made his offer of marriage again, only to be rejected again."

_Loras took up the story_

"_I've long suspected that Robert's drunken ramblings about how much he loved Lyanna, how he wanted to save her, how he wanted the child to be his, were his attempts to persuade everyone else and maybe even himself, that her death wasn't his fault. I've hear too many tales like that in the Forces, when men cannot face and accept their guilt for a failure in duty. Say it often enough and cowards begin to believe it themselves!" he spat. _

Renly continued

So Robert, having somehow caused or contributed to the death of Lyanna, fled. I know he never returned to Winterfell after she died and never attended the funeral. For someone who professed to be so devoted, not to attend the funeral is surely strange in itself.

"_Strange - yes, but it's not proof he killed her! How could he have killed her if he loved her so much?" Arya gasped_

"_Because he's a fucking bastard. Let Renly finish his story." Gendry growled_

I believe the child was somehow saved as the mother died and brought up by Ned Stark as his own. If Robert did kill the mother, then it stands to reason that Ned would be bound to do all he could to stop Robert from coming back for the child. How better to keep the boy safe and under his protection, than to pass the child off as his own son and raise him in Winterfell. Unfortunately his own wife had not long given birth to a son, so the child couldn't be passed off as Catelyn's, so Ned had to pretend the mother was someone unknown, who could never be asked any awkward questions or subject to blackmail. In the panic that must have ensued after Lyanna's death, to make up a name, to pass the child off as his own, must have seemed like the best solution."

"_So my whole life has been a lie?" Jon exclaimed in horror_

Of course not! Ned Stark did what he had to do to keep you safe. You are still a Stark, but I suspect you are also a Targaryen. I discussed this with Doctor Cressen and he told me that certain markers are passed down through the DNA from the father and, if we can obtain a DNA sample from a Targaryen, from Rheagar or one of his other children, then we could prove my theory conclusively. We haven't made any attempts to obtain some Targaryen DNA yet, but I believe we shall make it a priority now. Can I leave that with you Loras?

_Loras nodded. _

_Jon blurted out "I'll get you some - no problem." Gendry shot him a warning look and shook his head, un-noticed by anyone other than Jon._

"_Daenerys Targaryen." Jon said pointedly, looking at Gendry. "She's related to Rheagar. I'll speak to her about it."_

"_Small world" Loras remarked_

"_You have no idea" Gendry snorted, causing Loras to draw him another, disdainful look. _

"_So what about me Renly? Where do I fit in all of this?" Gendry asked_

Your father was in Winterfell frequently during the early months of 1986, he met your mother …

"_In the pub!" Loras scoffed_

…and you were the fortunate result. Renly finished

"_What!? Don't give me this 'fortunate result' shit and don't try and tell me that's the end of the story! I want to know why my mum never told me who my father was, never chased him for child support and why we lived in near poverty, when she could have easily got money off that rich bastard!"_

_Renly paused again._

I have a suspicion about that too, but I would prefer that you and I discussed it on another occasion - when we are alone.

"_Bugger that! You've already had us all swear we'll not repeat anything beyond these walls and I trust Arya and Jon with my life! You can't expect me to keep secrets from my fiancé and my best… the assistant head of Baratheon security!"_

"It's a private matter Gendry". Renly replied reluctantly, realising Gendry had backed him into a corner and he would be forced to tell them all, if Gendry continued to insist – and he did.

I'll ask you a question then Gendry. Do you think your mother knew who your father was?

That stumped Gendry. How could his mother not know the man who had got her pregnant? Even if she hadn't known he was **Lord** Robert Baratheon, then she must have seen him in the pub before, known he was staying with Lord Stark. Winterfell village wasn't the kind of place that strangers went un-noticed. But, on the other hand, Gendry was certain she would have tried to get money out of a millionaire, not for herself, but for him - her child and yet she hadn't ever tried. Suddenly what Renly was suggesting made sense. His mother hadn't been able to tell him who his father was, or chase him for money because she didn't know. It all made sense - his mother hadn't know who his father was.

"_But how could she not know who got her pregnant?"_

Are you sure you want to know Gendry – in front of your friends?

"_Tell us Renly!" Gendry demanded_

"Because it wasn't Lord Robert Baratheon who made love to your mother, or even shagged her on a drunken one night stand after the pub Gendry! It was the wolf!"

"_No!" Gendry roared "You take that back you fucker! My mother would never have had sex with…with an animal!"_

Do you think he asked her first - you fool? You have no idea what urges drive you when the moon is full. He wanted her and he took her and she had no way of stopping him.

_His mother hadn't known who his father was because she had been raped by Robert fucking Baratheon the Werewolf! His mother hadn't known who or what did that to her, but Ned Stark bloody well had. That was why Ned had given her the job, the promotion, paid for her funeral and ultimately why he had rejected Gendry as soon as he knew he was going out with his daughter. The bastard Werewolf son of Lord Robert Baratheon, with Lady Arya Stark. Talk about history repeating itself! Ned had lost his sister to Robert and now he thought he was loosing his daughter to Gendry. It all made horrific sense. The pieces of the macabre jigsaw fell into place._

Gendry jumped up and ran from the room, knocking over his glass and stumbling over a chair in his haste to get out.

Arya was up and after him almost instantly, but he was much faster than she was. By the time she got to the foot of the staircase he was almost at the top, having taken the stairs two at a time in his desperate haste.

Arya started up the staircase after him as Renly, Jon and Loras ran into the hall, just in time to see Gendry rip his father's portrait from the wall and launch it out into the vast space under the domed ceiling. The portrait soared out across the atrium, as if in slow motion, before spiralling downwards towards the marble floor, while Gendry, hands gripping the balcony, raged out across the atrium with a gut wrenching howl

"_**Mine is the fucking fury!" **_

Before Arya could get near him, he was off and running again.


	8. Chapter 8 - Werewolves of London

Werewolves of London

Arya got to the top of stairs and looked down the long corridor, but she couldn't see Gendry. She ran towards their room as fast as she could in her heels. The door was open, so at least she knew he had gone inside. She could hear a slow, rhythmic 'thud… thud', which hopefully meant he was still here. He wasn't in the living area, so he must be in the bedroom. The bedroom was in darkness and she didn't want to switch on the light so it took her eyes a few moments to adjust. The slow, dull 'thud' was louder in here and, as her eyes became accustomed to the dark, she could see him, silhouetted against the night sky.

She could only see his shape against the glass wall, an empty black silhouette against a backdrop of a million stars. With no towns or streetlights nearby, there was no light pollution to mask the stars - only still water and starlit sky, merging together on the distant horizon. It was so beautiful; it made her catch her breath. Even in Winterfell, she'd never seen a sky that perfect.

She paused, listening to the slow, punishing rhythm, "thud…thud." She tried to calm herself; even in her frantic state, she knew that her handling of this could be crucial. She climbed the few stairs to the ledge in front of the window. Standing a few paces behind him, she could see his arms spread wide against the glass and realised Gendry was the source of the dull thud – he was hitting his head, slowly, repeatedly against the glass.

He didn't seem to notice her, or at least didn't acknowledge her presence. Carefully, she took her stiletto heels off and walked towards him. At that moment, the almost full moon came out from behind a cloud, bathing him in a cold, eerie white light. His eyes were screwed shut and his face twisted in a grimace that could have been fear, or anger, or both. She slipped under his arm and into the space between his body and the wall of stars, feeling the cool, smooth glass wall against her back and the vibration through it as he crashed his forehead into the glass again.

She looked up him, his face so handsome and familiar and yet, in the pale moonlight all shadows and planes, still magnificent, but also alien and terrifying all at once. They were so close she could feel his ragged breath on her face, but still he didn't acknowledge her.

"Gendry" she whispered. The moon slipped back behind a cloud, leaving them in almost total darkness again.

He paused in his rhythmic punishment against the wall and, after a long, slow intake of breath groaned

"You should leave me Arya. Just go away now, before it's too late."

She put her hand up to his face, to stroke it, but as soon as her fingers made contact with his burning skin he jerked his head away.

"Leave me alone." he hissed.

"I'm not leaving you Gendry. Listen to me - you're not your father. I've known you all your life and I know what's in here…" She touched her fingertips against the centre of his chest, feeling his heart hammering through the damp cotton shirt "You're kind and loving and I know you would never hurt anyone."

"But you're wrong, Arya" he spat through gritted teeth. "I can feel it in me. A rage I never knew I possessed and it's as if something's awakened in me since I met you again and Renly. I need you so much." He paused and took a few deep breaths before continuing

"I want to be the only man you ever make love to in your life, but I know that's not fair as I've had plenty of women. You're so young and should have more experience, but if you ever left me for…for a Targaryen, I know I could loose it. Loose control and I couldn't live with myself if I ever hurt you."

He banged his head against the glass again in frustration and Arya felt the dull impact shudder through her body; leaving her acutely aware that only a few inches of glass were all that prevented her falling backwards onto the cliffs below. She shivered as she imagined the glass shattering and herself falling through the moonlight to be claimed by the sea. She blinked, trying to focus on Gendry looming above her and on what he needed to hear from her here and now.

"But I'm not Lyanna – just as you're not Robert! We're not replaying someone else's life! I'll never leave you as long as you want me" she tried to reassure him and in that moment she meant it absolutely. "…and we don't even know any Targaryens for me to run off with" she added, trying to lighten his mood with a joke. Even in the near dark, she could see his eyes spring open.

"Were you not listening to Renly? Jon is a Targaryen. He will bring Daenerys here and I don't know who else. And what's going to happen after that? Stop being so bloody naive Arya. You didn't even believe me when I told you Renly was a werewolf! Well, do you believe me now? Did you see his eyes - and Loras's? We're already in this shit up to our necks and I'm scared Arya. There I've said it – I'm scared of what's going to happen to me and to you and to us!"

She had never heard him sound like that before; cocky, confident, big strong Gendry admitting he was scared, but Renly and Loras scared her too. She had seen their eyes and while she wasn't quite ready to accept that they could really be Werewolves, there was certainly something very strange about their eyes. In fact everything was very strange since they'd met Renly. She didn't know what to do, except to stay with Gendry and to try and get him away from here.

"But surely, after what Renly told you about what Robert _might_ have done to Lyanna and to your mother you're not even considering joining this Werewolf thing?" He didn't answer.

"Are you?" she asked again

"Of course not. I'd already decided that when you said you wouldn't do it too. But how do we get out of this? My flat's a wreck and if I don't stay with Renly and Loras am I going to get shot by some Lannister? We were just lucky Jon came by last time. And what about you Arya? I wanted what Renly offered me so I could protect you and I can't do that if we leave. They nearly killed you once and I can't risk anything like that ever happening to you again. I'm fucked - screwed whichever way I turn."

She didn't have any answer for him - that would have to wait, but she needed to comfort him, to bring him back to her now.

She tried to kiss him again, and again he pulled his head away, back out of her reach. She stood on her tip toes and, wrapping her arms around his neck, gently pulled his head down towards hers. Finally her lips found his. She kissed him softly, feeling his lips dry and burning on hers. He didn't return her kiss, but he didn't turn his head away either.

His arms were still splayed against the glass. She reached up and pulled one arm down, rubbing his hand onto the top of her thigh, so he could feel the suspenders through her dress. Finally, he responded, sliding his hand, cold from contact with the glass, down her thigh, following the line of the suspender. When he got to the hem of her dress, he slid his cold fingers onto the silk of the stocking and then slowly back up her thigh until he reached the wondrous line where the silk ended and her warm skin began. She gasped as his cold fingers touched her bare flesh, opening her lips involuntarily. He seized the opportunity to snake his tongue into her warm, wet mouth.

He was leaning into her now, both hands on her thighs, grinding his body against hers, pressing her back onto the glass. She could feel the hard ridge of his cock digging into her hip through their clothes. As he worked his fingers up higher, trying to get past the silk of her French knickers she pushed back against him, knowing he needed re-assurance that she was all his, knowing that she also needed him inside her to make her feel alive like no-one else ever had before.

His fingers, still cold, worked around the silk, exploring her hot pussy, stroking every soft fold, and finally finding the warm, wet haven they were seeking. He slid one finger inside her and she moaned, pressing herself down on his hand, whimpering softly with pleasure. Then he slid a second finger inside, stretching her and feeling her juices seep onto his hand. Her tongue was matching his now, his mouth becoming more insistent as his fingers corkscrewed inside her, making her soaking wet and beginning to tremble with the desperate need to feel more of him inside her. She fumbled for the button of his trousers and pulled down the zip. His cock didn't immediately spring into her hand as it usually did. She had to fumble around to release it from the tight bikini briefs she'd so enjoyed seeing him wear earlier that evening. When she finally freed his cock it pulsed under her fingers as she began to work her hand firmly up and down his shaft.

It was Gendry's turn to gasp as her long slim fingers wrapped around his cock made him shudder with lust and the need to find his release; his desire for her sweeping over him like wildfire and matching her need for him. Withdrawing his fingers from her molten sex, he placed both hands, now warmed by her hot body, on the backs of her thighs, pressing the suspenders into her soft skin and lifted her up, pushing her up the glass wall until he had her cunt positioned directly above his cock. Greedily she guided him in, past the silky French knickers, and wrapped her stocking clad legs around his waist. They both moaned as their bodies joined together, Arya relishing the exquisite feeling of fullness as he slid inside her and Gendry from her tight muscles massaging his whole length as he pushed fully in. He then withdrew slowly until only the tip of his cock was still inside her, before ramming up into her again, impaling her on his cock against the wall. Her fingers dug into his buttocks as she tried to pull him deeper into her.

This was needy, desperate fucking, both of them demanding and receiving the reassurance and release they needed from the other. The came together quickly and violently, with Arya telling him she loved him over and over again. As he pumped the last remnants of his orgasm into her, they heard Jon at the door.

"Arya, Gendry – are you in here?" Then "Shit, where's the light switch?" as he bumped into something with a crash.

Arya bit her own lip and placed her hand over Gendry's mouth to try and stifle the noise made by his sawing breath. Slowly and gently he set her back on the ground, her stocking feet making no sound as she touched the cold stone floor. Arya pulled her dress down from where it had been bunched up around her waist, before calling out to Jon

"We're over at the window. Hold on and I'll put the lights on."

Gendry adjusted himself and zipped up his trousers as Arya walked over to the light switch. He was tucked in and turning around as she flicked the switch, blinding them all instantly with brilliant, artificial light.

"Fucking hell – I preferred the moonlight" Gendry exclaimed, shading his eyes with his hand as his eyes adjusted.

"Sorry – I'm not interrupting anything am I?" Jon muttered, as Gendry and Arya both made for the stairs together, bumped into each other and then both, awkwardly motioned for the other to go first.

"It's just that I wanted to make sure you were ok Gendry and also I…I needed to talk to someone."

Arya accepted Gendry's offer to walk down the stairs first and, once she reached the bottom, ran over to Jon and flung her arms around him the way she always had. He didn't move, didn't return the hug or scoop her up the way he used to. Maybe he was embarrassed to in front of Gendry, maybe he knew what they'd been up to when he interrupted them, and perhaps he felt she wasn't his little sister anymore.

Arya took a step back and moved her hands from behind his neck to rest them on his face.

"Before you start Jon, I want you to know that no matter what happens from now on – you'll always be my favourite big brother." Arya felt her voice tremble with emotion as she spoke to him. Jon's big, grey eyes looked at her so mournfully that it was all she could do to stop herself from crying. Finally he accepted her hug and crushed her into him, hanging on to her as if she was a lifebelt in a stormy sea.

To Arya's utter surprise, Gendry came up behind her and hugged the two of them. The three of them stood like that for ages, no-one wanting to break the bond that the three of them felt in that moment together. Eventually Gendry pulled away and muttered he was going to make them all tea. His voice was thick with emotion and he hurried out of the room before Arya could see his face. Tears were rolling down her cheeks now. She didn't even know exactly why she was crying. She was so comforted by having both Jon and Gendry wrapped around her, that it made everything else that the three of them now had to deal with seem unreal. She sniffed and wiped the tears away from her cheeks with the back of her hand. Jon still had his dinner jacket on and pulled a crisp, white, linen square out of his top pocket and handed it to her gently.

Arya looked at him with fresh eyes as she wiped away her tears and blew her nose. Everyone had always commented on how alike they were. The two of them looked like Starks, while their other brothers and sister (_her_ other brothers and sister?) were definitely a mixture of Tully and Stark, and in Sansa's case – almost all Tully. Did she and Jon look so alike because she looked like his mother? She had seen pictorial evidence tonight of just how alike she and Lyanna were. Was Renly right? Was it true that Jon and Arya weren't brother and sister, but cousins? She really wanted to hate Renly and scream in his face that he was a liar, but just as what Renly had said about Werewolves had rekindled old, half forgotten memories from her childhood about the wolf carcase, so what Renly said about Jon not being Ned's child also rang true. It would explain why their mother – damn – she would need to stop saying that – why Catelyn Stark hated Jon. Surely if he had even been part of Ned, she could have loved the child as she loved the father? But Arya had never seen their mother – damn – Catelyn – show even a scrap of love to Jon. That made the tears well again in her eyes and she threw herself at Jon once more, wrapping her arms around his neck and whispering

"I'm so sorry Jon. So sorry." through her tears. John stroked her back gently and murmured

"You've got nothing to be sorry for Arya. You've always been one of the best things in my life. Come on, stop crying. I need to talk to you and I can't do it properly if you keep crying and grabbing me."

Arya let go of him and blew her nose again. He was always so practical. She wondered if he got that from Lyanna or from his father. A rock star. She didn't even know if Jon could sing. She'd never heard him sing since they were little kids in church – since his voice had broken.

"Hey, Jon, can you sing?" she sniffed. That broke the tension and he started laughing.

"I can hold a tune – yeah. The rest of you are crap singers, so maybe that proves what Renly's saying eh?"

"I am not a crap singer!" Arya huffed. "Well, not compared to Gendry anyway." She added as Gendry walked back into the room to tell them the tea was ready.

"What am I getting compared to?" Gendry asked. Jon started laughing again

"A tortured cat maybe? Arya asked me if I could sing and we were just agreeing we're both better singers than you!"

"Ok, ok, so singing's not one of my many talents, but I make up for being a bit tuneless with a lot of enthusiasm" and he started singing "Werewolves of London" by Warren Zevon very loudly and very badly. Jon joined in at the chorus – signing

"Aaoooooo! Werewolves of London! Aaoooooo!" perfectly in tune while Gendry warbled all over the place.

"Bloody hell – that's awful and I don't think that song's very funny in the circumstances" Arya huffed.

"I can't help it – It's been running around my head since Renly first mentioned Werewolves to me – and we were in London at the time too." Gendry explained to them.

"Well, I think it's funny and if I don't start laughing at all this shit that's going on, I'm going to start to cry too." Jon said – looking pointedly at Arya. "Let's have a cup of your tea Gendry and we can discuss what the hell we're all going to do now."


	9. Chapter 9

**Bonjour Daenerys!**

_**I need to apologise in advance to any French people reading this. My French (& therefore Jon's) isn't very good and Daenerys's misspelt lines are supposed to give you the impression of a sexy French accent.. **_

The three of them sat around the table drinking tea from china cups emblazoned with the inevitable Baratheon prancing stag.

"It's all a bit much with this stag sigil isn't in?" Jon observed to no-one in particular, as he peered at the delicate tea cup in his hand. "I mean, I know Renly says he and Lyanna decided to put it everywhere when they redecorated, but he's gone a bit over the top with it hasn't he?"

"Oh God, he goes over the top with everything and I don't know if I love it or hate it." Gendry moaned. "I've gone from being a happy nobody, to being given a fucking Aston Martin by my uncle, the gay Werewolf. I'm apparently heir to Lord Baratheon - who I fucking despise, and everyone else wants to kill me."

"Don't forget dear – you're engaged to the hottest girl in Westeros." Arya added.

"Oh Yeah. I nearly forgot that." At least that made him smile. He didn't know if she was joking or not. He certainly thought she was the hottest girl _anywhere_, but it wasn't like Arya to blow her own trumpet.

"Come on Mate. At least you've got each other. What have I got? I've never felt so alone. I know Renly's told us both more about our families in a few days that we've learned in twenty six years. I'm glad I know. Or, at least, I'll be glad when the DNA confirms what I _think _I know, but I'm also devastated. I'd always hoped my mother was alive and that I'd get to meet her someday. Now that'll never happen." Jon sighed, looking utterly bereft.

"But you're making yourself miserable based solely on what Renly told us. We don't know if it's true. Even he admitted he only _thinks_ that's what happened." Arya reasoned "And anyway, I don't trust him."

"Well he was right about me." Gendry replied defensively.

"But he had the DNA test for you first Gendry. Didn't he? He had 100% proof before he told you. I don't think he's being fair to either of you now with all these horrible theories and accusations."

"I didn't have any doubts when I met Renly and saw those pictures of Robert that they were my family, but I don't know about you and the Targaryens Jon. I mean, you don't look much like G…err, Daenerys."

"What's she like?" Arya asked Jon.

Gendry interrupted before Jon could answer.

"She's French; petite, long, blonde hair, big tits, fucking gorgeous and not Jon's type at all – eh mate?"

Jon blushed furiously

"Look, I just don't want to get my hopes up with her. That's all. I know she's super hot, but what's she going to see in me? I suppose I've got to meet her sometime, but…" he trailed off.

"You're a fucking great catch mate. I keep telling you, but you hide yourself away in those bloody trees and only shag redheads. It's all about PMA. I mean look at me! I've got the hottest girl in Westeros wearing my ring and I don't have half what you've got."

"Stop talking about me like I'm not here Gendry." Scolded Arya. "And what's PMA?"

"Positive Mental Attitude. And you're the one who said you were the hottest girl in Westeros – I'm just agreeing! Anyway, don't change the subject Arya. Daenerys is going to fall into your bed Jon if you ever let her get close enough. I mean look at you – all the girls always love you, with your big, puppy dog eyes and your posh manners – you just limit your options too much. Come on, admit it – have you ever shagged any girl who wasn't a redhead?"

"Oh God, I don't think I want to hear this…" Arya groaned.

"Ignore her Jon. Just answer the damn question – have you?"

"Umm, no." Jon reluctantly replied, staring intently at the tea cup again.

"So when are you going to hook up with Daenerys then? You can't shag her on skype!"

"Gendry!" Arya interjected, appalled. "Is this the way you always talk about women?" What she really wanted to know was '_is his the way you talk about me?_'

"Look Arya, he's my best mate and I'm just trying to help him. He's fancied Daenerys for six months and won't bloody get himself on a plane and go and see her."

"She's not offered to come over here either." Jon mumbled defensively.

"Well, I'm sick of seeing you moping after her and you need a shag now more than ever. I've got the perfect solution - we're all going to be staying in some fancy hotel in London. Ask her to come over and see you for a few days. We'll get a limo to pick her up at the airport – hey, even better, you can borrow my car! You'll be guaranteed mate!"

"Are you really suggesting she'll sleep with him just because he turns up in a James Bond car?" Arya asked incredulously.

"Well, it's not going to hurt his chances any is it? And we can use this!" Gendry took the metal card from his wallet and dropped it onto the table where it landed with a clatter.

"What's that?" Arya and Jon both asked together, looking at the silver sliver of metal now sitting, gleaming amongst the tea cups.

"Renly gave it to me. Unlimited company credit card. He told me not to _buy_ a private jet with it, but he never said anything about _hiring_ one. Phone her now and ask her what she's doing tomorrow. Find out where her nearest airport is and we'll hire a plane to bring her over. We make the arrangements at this end and then you pick her up in London."

"Christ. You're joking right?!"

"Why would I joke? You heard Renly say he'd make getting Targaryen DNA a priority so he could prove his theory. Well, we're just helping him."

"Umm, I dunno." Jon procrastinated. "What if she doesn't want to come?"

"If you don't ask you'll never know, stupid." Gendry picked the cordless telephone and tossed it to Jon who caught it deftly with one hand.

"If you don't phone her mate, I will!"

Jon gritted his teeth and dialled the number.

"Bon soir Daenerys. Ca va? Bien. Ok… in English." A sappy grin spread across Jon's face as he listened to Daenerys on the other end of the line. Then he became aware of Arya and Gendry watching him. He stuck two fingers up at them and turned his back, lowering his voice to a near whisper. Arya caught Gendry's eye and grinned at him, delighted to see Gendry helping Jon like this. This proved he _was_ thoughtful and caring and she made a mental note to point it out to him next time he compared himself to his father. Gendry reached for her hand and squeezed, both hoping for Jon's sake that Daenerys would come.

"Listen, I'm going to be in London for a few days. I'm staying in this nice hotel and I was just wondering if…if you wanted to fly over and meet up, I mean… if you can spare the time?"

Gendry jumped up out of his chair and ran around to stand in front of Jon hissing

"Don't beg! Tell her about the private jet!"

Jon pulled a face and waved him away.

"Well, I was hoping tomorrow. I've got this friend who's got access to a private jet and he says it can pick you up tomorrow and you can be in London in a couple of hours. I'll meet you at the airport here and we can…um…go to the hotel."

Gendry gave him the thumbs up, grinning broadly

"Yeah. A private jet. Jet privé. Where's your nearest airport? Lourdes. Ok, I'll make the arrangements and call you back. Yeah. Can't wait to see you either. I'll call you back soon. Ok…you too. Au revoir. Bye."

"She's coming! Whoohoo! She's bloody well coming!" Jon yelled and started jumping around. He put his arm around Gendry's shoulder and the two of them started whooping and hollering and jumping around together as if Jon had just scored a goal. Arya supposed he had in a way.

"Right, boys - give me the phone and I'll make the arrangements." Arya ordered.

"Have you booked a private jet before?" Gendry stopped jumping and asked in astonishment.

"No! Don't be stupid, but I bet Renly and Robert use them all the time. There's a 24/7 reception here. All I have to do is dial '9' and ask them to put me through to the usual jet hire company that Baratheon Enterprises use."

"Really? And that'll work?" Gendry asked sceptically.

_Honestly he doesn't have a clue what he's getting himself into with all this big business stuff, _Arya thought to herself.

"Why wouldn't it? Everything's available if you've got the money to pay for it. Give me your card anyway, in case I need it." Gendry retrieved his card from the table and handed it to her.

"Hello reception? I need to book a private jet for Mr Baratheon. Can you put me through to the usual company please? Yes, I'll hold."

"Told you!" she mouthed triumphantly at the two of them and padded off into the bedroom to make the call in peace.

Jon collapsed into the nearest chair with relief.

"Thanks mate. I can't believe she's really coming."

"Well, thank you for saving my life. And Arya's of course. Just don't fucking blow it. You need to shag her before this DNA thing hits the fan as; if she _is_ your aunt then that is a bit weird mate."

"Christ, don't remind me - but it's not like that. I've never met her before and we're both adults, even if she is a younger than us. That's a bit weird isn't it? If she's my aunt, how can she be younger than me when Rhaegar's ancient?"

"Just don't think about it – and don't tell Arya about the aunt thing. She'll not like it."

"What else have I not to tell her? I'm finding it hard not to mention Aegon, or should I say Griff. Come on Gendry – what are you doing? She's already bloody well met him and don't you think it'll be worse when she finds out _you_…Shit! _**We**_… knew and never told her. It's inevitable she _will _find out who he is sooner or later."

"I know. I know." Gendry moaned. "But did you see the way he looked at her? And you know what he's fucking like with the ladies – never known to fail and all that shit. He was all over her like a bad rash and he's a fucking Rock Star! What if she fancies a bit of what her aunt had?"

"He's not a rock star yet and you're going to have to trust her. If you try and keep her away from every guy that fancies her, you'll end up having to lock her up in the dungeon of your castle Lord Baratheon."

"I'm just waiting for the right moment to tell her – that's all."

"Tell me what?" Arya wondered as she walked back into the room.

"Umm, er…umm. That I want to have a big wedding! A great, big wedding."

"Really?" Arya asked incredulously as Jon and Gendry exchanged nervous glances.

"Yeah, but we'll talk about it once we're in London babe. That's one of the things we're going to do in London isn't it? Make arrangements for the wedding?"

"Well um, err…" Arya hadn't really thought about what they were going to do in London, she just wanted him away from Storm's End and Renly.

"…I didn't think you were interested in any of the wedding plans?"

"I wasn't, but if I want a big wedding then it's only fair that I help you will all that wedding… stuff isn't it?"

"Umm I suppose so. Anyway, that's the flight booked. She can either make her own way to the airport at Lourdes for an 11am take off or they can pick her up. Might not be a limo though. The girl said it's a bit hit or miss with limos being available at these regional airports. It's a two hour flight, so she arrives in London city airport at noon – allowing for the time difference. That should be enough time for us to get to London, get settled into the hotel and then for Jon to go to the airport to pick her up in Gendry's bloody car. Oh and it's about £8,000 plus vat and airport taxes. Not as much as I'd thought actually, and they'll invoice Baratheon Enterprises directly - so I didn't even need your fancy card." Arya dropped the shiny rectangle into Gendry's lap.

"Thanks both of you. I'll phone Daenerys back in a minute. The two of you make it sound so simple." Jon said with obvious relief.

"Right- that's one problem solved! What about the rest? What do I do about my fucking father? The murdering rapist?"

Jon was in too good a mood now to let Gendry wallow in his misery.

"Well, I think you need to look at this objectively. Renly said himself – he _suspected _Robert was involved in Lyanna's death and that he _thought_ he raped your mother, but I don't think you should do anything until you know the truth." Jon advised - practical as ever.

"But how the fuck am I going to find that out - twenty six years later?"

"Well, Renly is guessing. Maybe it's an educated guess and maybe he's right, but we need to get the truth from the only two people alive who know what really happened; Robert Baratheon and Ned Stark. Loras already told me you're going to meet Robert on Wednesday. That's one of the reason's we're all going to London tomorrow isn't it?" Jon asked.

"Yeah it is – Renly's got a lot of 'arrangements' to make apparently. But did Loras tell you why?" Gendry asked

"No he didn't. I assumed it was for that stem cell transplant?" Jon replied

"Well he can bloody well forget that now! It wasn't that anyway. Wednesday is the full moon and it was for me to get the bite from the Alpha Werewolf – who handily happens to be my father."

"_What?_" Arya yelped in horror "You never told me that!"

"Well, _you_ only told _me_ this afternoon you wouldn't do it too, so I didn't know myself what I was going to do! Anyway, after hearing about that bastard raping my mother it's a no-brainer now."

Arya sagged with relief, while Jon interrupted

"But hold on. You're assuming again that Robert did rape your mother and you don't know that for sure. We're back to believing everything Renly says is true. I think you owe it to your father and to yourself to find out the truth before you decide anything. Ask him. See what he has to say for himself and then you can decide if he's a murderer or a rapist… or both… or maybe he's none of these things. Perhaps Good Old Uncle Renly has another agenda."

"Well I don't trust Renly! And while Gendry's getting the truth from his father, we can go and see our father and get the truth from him too!"

"You mean Ned Stark Arya. I don't think he's my father."

"But listen to yourself Jon, you're telling Gendry not to jump to conclusions, but you're doing _exactly_ the same thing yourself. Innocent until proven guilty and all that." Arya exclaimed

Jon sighed.

"Ok, you're right. So that's our plan. Gendry gets the truth out of Robert somehow and we get the truth out of _our _father. Then we sit down, put it all together and hopefully between Renly, Robert and Ned, we'll be able to work out what the hell really went on twenty six years ago."

"Sounds like an excellent plan to me!" Gendry stood up, stretched and grunted with pain as his ribs protested. "It's been a really long day, those painkillers are wearing off and I'm going to bed. You can let me know tomorrow how I'm supposed to tell Renly and fucking Robert that I don't want to be a Werewolf after all, but…OH!…_by the way father… just before I leave forever, can you tell me whether you're a murdering rapist?"_ he said sarcastically.

"Bloody Hell Gendry! You play along with it! Agree to anything to get the information…"

"But don't let him bite you!" Arya interjected

"Oh great. _Just don't let the mad, murdering, supernaturally strong, Werewolf bite me."_ Gendry mocked

"He's a dying man, strapped to a hospital bed isn't he? Surely he can't bite you if you don't want him to? It doesn't work if Renly or Loras bite you does it? I wouldn't put it past Renly to bite you." Jon mused.

"No, apparently it's only the Alpha that'll turn you, but never mind Renly biting me! If Loras could get away with _eating _you he would!"

"What do you mean by that?" Jon yelled

"Oh come on! You must have seen the way he's drooling over you! He even put his arm around you tonight!"

"He was just being nice. God, you've got sex on the brain Gendry."

"Suit yourself mate. Just don't bend down to pick up any soap in front of him – that's all I'm saying."

"Will you two shut up? My head hurts too much to think about this anymore tonight. Let's go to bed." Arya moaned.

"Ha! See, Arya's got sex on the brain too tonight!"

"Shut up!" Arya and Jon simultaneously yelled at Gendry.

-0-

At 11.50am the next day Jon and Loras were standing beside Gendry's Aston Martin, parked on the tarmac at London City airport. Jon was hopping from foot to foot with impatience and apprehension, wishing that Loras hadn't insisted on coming and also wishing that he looked as cool as Loras Tyrell.

When the Head of Baratheon Security heard about their scheme (apparently he'd received an e-mail confirming the flight plan from the hire company) he had insisted that Jon not go alone. No matter how much Jon and Gendry protested, Loras wouldn't relent. He pointed out calmly and repeatedly that Jon was now as much of a target as Gendry, having foiled the Lannister assassination attempt and that luck wouldn't guarantee his survival a second time. He assured the two younger men that, once Jon had completed his training and passed the defensive driving course, the firearms courses etc etc, then the two of them could do what they wanted, but until then it was an absolute 'No'. "Not on my watch" was his stock answer to all their protestations. So, Loras drove Jon to the airport to meet Daenerys.

"I don't know what you're so nervous about. She's just a girl." Loras drawled as he leant against the side of the gleaming black car. He had his arms folded, black aviator sunglasses on, white shirt, black suit and tie. Jon finally remembered who he reminded him of. With his army haircut, he looked like Brad Pitt playing an assassin in that movie 'Mr & Mrs Smith'. Great, that's just who you want to have with you when you meet your girl for the first time - the coolest man you know – who also happens to look like a movie star. Jon's insecurity, combined with nerves made him snap at Loras

"What would you know Loras? You're right – she's a _girl_ and I happen to want to sleep with this _girl _tonight."

Loras sighed. "I only meant she's human – like you and me. It's not as if she's the Queen is it? She wouldn't be human if she wasn't impressed by all this carry on – sending a private jet to pick her up, champagne on ice waiting in the penthouse suite of one of the best hotels in London. Renly and I were supposed to have that suite you know and he re-arranged them just so you could impress 'Little Miss Targaryen'. I suggest you thank him sometime – and me."

"Thanks." Jon said grudgingly. "And sorry. I thought you meant…you know…"

"That you shouldn't get this worked up about _a girl_? Well, there is that too. I've always preferred cock myself. Can't understand what you breeders see in those fishy pussies."

Jon was glad he had sunglasses on too. He hoped they hid most of the shocked expression that must have crossed his face.

"Umm, well. Yeah… So Loras, how did you cope with being in the air force, surrounded by all that…cock?"

"Just had to forget about it. When you're training that hard and away on missions, believe me – sex is the last thing on your mind, particularly sex with men your life depends on. It was a great lesson in self control. A bit of abstinence can really focus the mind. You young guys should try it sometime."

Loras was staring at Jon while he spoke, but his expression was lost behind the black aviators.

"Looks like Little Miss Targaryen has arrived. Let's hope she's not a Queen eh? Or you might not be getting your hole tonight."

Jon chose not to reply and the two of them watched in silence as the recently landed Gulfstream jet taxied slowly towards them.

Once the plane came to a standstill, the door was opened by a male steward in a tight, turquoise uniform.

"Now, that's more like it!" Loras chuckled as the steward minced down the aircraft steps carrying two small suitcases.

"What are you waiting for? Go get her tiger!" Loras's words galvanised Jon into action and he ran across the tarmac and scooped a squealing Daenerys up into his arms, twirling her around like he'd done so many times to Arya. She flew up into the air, higher than he had intended, as she was much smaller, and he now discovered, lighter than Arya. She had worn her long, pale blonde hair loose and it flew around them both as they spun. Almond shaped violet eyes sparkled down at him as she shrieked with excitement and he knew he was grinning up at her like an idiot.

"Welcome to London!" Jon said as he set her back down on her feet. It was all he could think of in the moment. To his delight Daenerys immediately kissed him – and it wasn't an impersonal French peck on each cheek, it was a full snog on the lips. When she eventually broke away she scolded him

"It's not London am 'ere to see Jon – it's you." Her accent was even sexier in real life and he'd already thought it pretty damn sexy over the net. Accompanied by a pout of her pillow lips and a flutter of her long eyelashes, he could have dropped to his knees and worshiped her then and there.

"So take me to your 'otel. We 'ave a lot to do in a little time."

Jon took her hand and led her across the tarmac. Loras languidly pushed himself off the side of the car as they approached

"So, you want _me_ to get the bags then Tiger?"

"Umm, yeah, if you don't mind. Thanks Loras. Daenerys, this is my…friend Loras Tyrell and Loras, this is my… well, this is Daenerys."

Daenerys held out a small and perfectly manicured hand to Loras.

"'Ow do you do Monsieur Tyrell." She purred.

"The pleasure is all mine Miss Targaryen" Loras replied, taking her proffered hand, bowing and kissing it politely, in a perfect show of old fashioned English manners. Daenerys was delighted by this

"Oh, I love you English men!" she squealed.

"Err, the bags Loras?" Jon prompted, bristling with annoyance and insecurity again.

Loras smirked as he stalked off to retrieve the bags and Jon held the passenger door open for his French visitor.

"But I want to sit in zee back with you Jon. Monsieur Tyrell will drive us. No?" Daenerys pouted. Jon certainly wasn't going to argue. The two of them got into the back of the car and Daenerys immediately snuggled onto Jon's lap, snaking one arm around the back of his neck and playing with the dark brown curly hair that fell to his collar.

"I 'ave imagined so many times, touching your curls Jon."

Jon was already intoxicated by her musky perfume and her closeness. She was wearing a soft brown leather skirt, bare tanned legs, high heeled sandals and a white cotton blouse. Very 'Chic' was the way he would have described her clothes. The top three buttons on the blouse hadn't been fastened and, sitting on his lap, he was looking straight down into a magnificent cleavage. Gendry was right – she did have great tits. The view made his cock stiffen and he shifted uncomfortably as his hardening dick was trapped at an awkward angle in his pants.

"Touching you is even better than I had imagined" Jon replied, his voice thick with burgeoning lust. At that moment Loras eased himself into the driver's seat and, removing his sunglasses, caught Jon's eye in the rear view mirror.

"I see we're good to go then?" Loras's eyes were crinkled at the sides but, without seeing the rest of his face, Jon couldn't tell if Loras was smiling at them or if he was grimacing in disgust.

"Oui Monsieur Tyrell!" Daenerys giggled before Jon could answer. Loras drove smoothly out of the airport, heading to the hotel. Although they didn't have far to go, the traffic was awful and they hardly moved once they were on the London city streets.

"'ave you told Aegon that I am 'ere Jon?" Daenerys asked as she squirmed provocatively on his lap. Jon could imagine Loras's ears pricking up at the mention of another Targaryen name.

"'e never answers my calls and I 'aven't seen 'im for a year now. 'es always saying 'e 'as a gig to play."

"Err, no I haven't. I wanted you all to myself." Jon felt his face burn with embarrassment as he imagined Loras listening to their conversation.

"No matter. I'd rather see you of course! Does he still 'ave the stupid blue 'air?"

"Yeah." Jon muttered and nuzzled into her neck, hoping that would distract her from asking anymore about Griff.

Daenerys hadn't been kidding when she said they had a lot to do in very little time and she was certainly making the most of being in the back seat of the car with Jon. Both of her hands were in his hair, twisting his curls gently, running cool fingers down his sideburns and sometimes down his neck and into his shirt. She would giggle sexily when something she whispered in his ear made him blush or when she felt his cock stir under her and once when her long nail caught his hard little nipple, causing him to gasp with shock and arousal. Then she would kiss the end of his nose or the top of his head, which just teased him more. Jon felt too inhibited by Loras's presence and by the fact that they'd met up less than an hour before, to really respond to her teasing in the way he wanted – which was to push her back onto the seat of the car, slide his hand up her skirt and explore what lay behind her panties. So he made do with wrapping his arms around her slim waist and staring down her blouse.

Although Loras seemed to be doing his best to ignore the giggling and whispering going on in the back seat, Jon seemed to be unable to prevent himself from catching Loras's eye whenever the car jerked to a stop in traffic or whenever Daenerys giggled particularly enthusiastically. Daenerys eventually noticed this and whispered in Jon's ear

"You friend – does 'e like to watch?"

"Err, not you - he's gay." Jon whispered back, but couldn't stop himself looking at Loras again when he replied, unsure whether Loras could hear their whispered conversation.

"A pity, as 'e is so 'ansome." Daenerys replied. She leant back and lifted one tanned leg over Jon to straddle him, causing her skirt to ride right up around her waist and expose a white cotton thong. The two of them were sitting in the middle of the back seat and as Jon's hands slid down automatically onto the bare, firm globes of her buttocks, he could imagine the view Loras was getting from the drivers seat. The scrap of white cotton would be buried deep in the crevasse of her arse while Jon's fingers massaged the perfect tanned mounds of her arse cheeks. Jon screwed his eyes shut, wanting to savour the image in his head, moaning with barely restrained lust as he felt her full breasts, sheathed in straining cotton, brush over his face.

Jon's anticipation had been building from the night before. Now, having Daenerys riding his crotch, which should have been a dream come true, was turning into a perverse form of torture. Jon was beginning to tremble with the effort of holding himself back and there was nowhere he could escape to, in order to calm himself down or get them both away from Loras. He was beginning to think he would have to get out of the car and walk – preferably run – with Daenerys back to the hotel, as surely to God, that would be quicker than slogging through this traffic, when, finally, Loras turned the Aston Martin off Park Lane and glided to a stop in front of the Dorchester Hotel.

Loras seemed as anxious as Jon to get out of the car. The driver was out and opening the door for them before the wheels even seemed to have stopped turning. Daenerys appeared to be in no hurry to get out as she slowly uncurled her arms from Jon's neck and sat up straight. Lifting herself up off his lap slightly, she slid one hand down between their bodies to squeeze his rock hard cock through the stiff denim of his jeans.

"Fuuuuuuck me" Jon hissed slowly through gritted teeth as he fought to remain in control.

"'at is zee idea Jon" Daenerys promised in her husky French accent as she gracefully unfolded herself from the back seat, accepting Loras's extended hand to help her out of the car.

Jon tried to adjust himself while sitting down, but his pants were too tight and the denim too thick. He staggered out of the back seat, to find Loras standing waiting for him.

"Impressive Jon. Very impressive." Loras smirked while looking straight down at Jon's bulging crotch. "You really should think about trying that self control we talked about earlier. At least I don't have to tell you to '_Get a room!'_"

"Very funny Loras" Jon grumbled, before hurrying off to catch up with Daenerys's curvy little arse as it disappeared into the foyer of the hotel.

**Don't worry smut monsters – they'll shag in the next chapter…**

**and Happy New Year**


	10. Chapter 10 - I kissed a girl

**I kissed a girl…**

"Oh it's you two!" Jon said in surprise from behind the door of the penthouse suite.

"Well you invited us mate. Who else were you expecting?" Gendry asked

"Errr, no-one, I just didn't realise it was 4 o'clock already." Jon muttered.

"Yeah, we heard from Loras that you've not been out of your room in two days. So can we come in?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry" Jon mumbled, peering around the door. "Arya, you'd better go and see Daenerys; she's out on the sun terrace. It's all the way through there." From behind the door, Jon waved his arm towards the far end of the room.

"Ok" Arya muttered, squeezing past Gendry and around the door that Jon was still holding half shut in front of him. As soon as she was out of sight, Jon opened the door to let Gendry in and exhaled with relief.

"That was close."

"What do you mean mate?" asked Gendry, walking in and then doing a double take when he saw what Jon was wearing.

"Why the fuck have you got a sock on your dick?" Gendry yelped.

"Keep it down!" Jon hissed in a loud whisper. "I didn't want Arya to see that."

"No bloody wonder! What _the fuck_ are you doing?"

"I don't have any swim shorts and we've been sunbathing. I didn't want to burn my dick." Jon replied sheepishly.

"Could you not have used sunscreen like a normal…liked a normal nudist?"

"Well, we tried that yesterday, but it made shagging a pain, so I just put a sock over it today and it was working fine…until now."

"Ahhh, so you've been shagging then?" Gendry couldn't help laughing at the ridiculous situation.

"Fucking hell Gendry, she's been shagging my brains out! I'm surprised my dick's not fallen off!"

"Congratulations mate. I'm delighted to hear it, but can you go and put some trousers on? Or a towel, or fucking anything?"

"Ok, ok, I'll see you out on the terrace." And Jon ran off into one of the other rooms, giving Gendry an eye-full of his hairy bare arse as he went. Gendry shook his head, trying to rid himself of that unpleasant image. The blinds were drawn to keep the heat out and Gendry walked towards the light, through the reception room, a living room and eventually through French doors onto the patio. It was constructed of white tile and marble and, after the dark rooms, the sunlight was blinding. He hadn't thought to bring his sunglasses and had to shield his eyes from the glare in order to see Daenerys and Arya.

The patio was shaded from any prying eyes by a gold and cream striped canopy, but the afternoon sun was low enough to be shining in under it so there was no relief from the direct sunlight anywhere. It had been once of the hottest days of the summer so far and the baking heat, magnified by the reflection from the white surfaces made the roof terrace felt like the Mediterranean, rather than central London. Gendry could feel himself begin to sweat in his jeans and T shirt and quickly realised why Jon had resorted to wearing only a sock.

The terrace was large and, scattered around it were various rattan sun loungers covered with thick, white cushions. Daenerys was reclining on a huge, circular day bed, wearing a tiny gold bikini and enormous sunglasses. Arya was sitting on another lounger beside her, the two of them deep in conversation and sipping golden wine. He decided not to interrupt them and instead walked over to the balcony to admire the view over Park Lane, across to Hyde Park and the Serpentine Lake. There wasn't a cloud in the blue, London sky and he could see the little rowing boats on the lake and the green grass of Hyde Park strewn with sunbathing bodies. Before he met Renly, that would have been him down there on the grass with all the other ordinary people. Shit - who was he kidding? He wouldn't even have been there. At 4 o'clock on a Tuesday he would still have been working. Instead he was in the Penthouse suite of the Dorchester Hotel, favourite stopping-off point for movie stars and Renly Baratheon.

No wonder it was popular with the jet setters. It was right in the centre of London but the open views across the park could make you believe you were in the countryside, or today the Mediterranean, he thought as he wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. He was so lost in thought; he wasn't aware of Jon standing beside him until an ice cold beer bottle was pressed against his arm.

"Oi!" Gendry exclaimed and took the proffered beer from Jon, who had his own beer and a spare pair of sunglasses in his other hand. Mercifully, he was now wearing a pair of low slung jeans.

"So you've got spare sunglasses and no shorts?" Gendry queried as he put on the aviator style eye protection.

"Well, I asked Loras if I could borrow some sunglasses and he gave me two pairs, but I wasn't going to ask him for his shorts was I?! You're right by the way; I think he is into me."

"I know he is, but what made you finally realise?"

"Daenerys and I were fooling around in the back of your car on the way here and it wasn't Daenerys he couldn't take his eyes off."

"Well, as I said, don't bend down for any soap when he's around."

"Thanks for that helpful advice." Jon snorted, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Come on and I'll introduce you."

Once the introductions were over, the four of them relaxed in the afternoon sun and caught up with the events of the past two days. All Jon and 'Danni', as Jon had taken to calling her, had done since they arrived was sunbathe, order room service and fuck a lot (although that was implied rather than specifically mentioned). Gendry and Arya had both had to endure a rather more trying schedule, so the alcohol and the good company were a welcome respite from the pressures of the last few days and their apprehension about what the full moon would bring tomorrow.

"It 'es so 'ot today, you are both wearing too many clothes. Come with me Arya, I 'ave a spare bikni for you. Gendry – you do what you like, we are all friends 'ere – no?"

Gendry raised an eyebrow as the girls paraded past to get Arya changed. He wasn't about to strip down to a sock a la Jon, but Danni was right – it was far too hot to be sitting around in jeans and boots – even if they were desert boots. So he took off his boots, socks, and T shirt, rolled the legs of his jeans up a bit and enjoyed another cold beer with Jon while they waited on the girls to return.

Walking back into the penthouse suite, Arya felt as if she was walking back into another world. As the blinds were shut to keep out the afternoon heat and glare, the rooms were in semi-darkness and following Danni, who smelled of Ambre Solaire suntan oil, she was immediately transported back to hot, lazy summer holidays in exotic places. Arya hadn't realised that there was a constant background hum of London city noise outside until she came back into the peace and quiet.

Two glasses of rose wine, drunk too quickly, had given her a languid feeling and she was already more relaxed than she had at any other time in the past week. Daenerys was bubbly, chatty and obviously very smart. On top of that, she was petite, curvy and stunning beautiful. She could completely understand why Jon seemed to be head over heels for her. Every time she spoke in that sultry French accent, or every time Jon looked at her (which was most of the time), a sappy, love stuck look settled on his face.

Arya followed Danni into the bedroom where her two suitcases sat, still unpacked, on the dresser. Danni opened the nearest one and produced a tiny bikini, identical to the one she was wearing, only gold instead of silver.

"For you Arya. It will make you look very good."

Arya took the tiny scraps of material and looked at them apprehensively.

"That will never fit me Danni!"

"Of course it will. It will adjust. Look" and, to prove her point, Danni tugged at one of the straining triangles of silver material covering her impressive breasts and slid the sides of the material in towards the centre, so that only the nipple was covered, leaving the full globe of her breast and the huge, brown areola around the nipples exposed. Arya had never seen such a large, dark circle and mentally compared it to her own smaller raspberry buds. Danni's reminded Arya of a large chocolate drop and she had a sudden, unexpected urge to lick the French woman's breast.

"Ok, I'll try it." Arya declared adventurously and headed for the bathroom to get changed.

"You stay 'ere and change. We are both girls no?" Danni purred as she sat on the bed to watch.

Normally Arya would have insisted on changing in the bathroom, not wanting anyone, particularly such a petite beauty, to see her naked, but Danni was so friendly and was being so helpful by giving her something cool to wear that Arya was willing to try to forget her usual inhibitions. Of course the wine helped too. Rather reluctantly, she slipped of her high heeled sandals, unzipped her maxi-length summer dress and let it drop at her feet. Then, self consciously, she removed her bra and panties. Too embarrassed to make eye-contact with Danni, she reached for the bikini top lying on the bed. As she tried to adjust the two little triangles of metallic material over her breasts Danni told her

"You are so beautiful Arya - so tall and slim and strong like Jon. You shouldn't 'ide away under old lady skirts."

"I wish I had a figure like you Daenerys."

"Mon dieu! You 'ave fantastique breasts and derriere. You must make the most of what you 'ave got!"

The simple triangles of the bikini top could, just like Danni's, be moved along the lace that fastened around the ribcage to cover more, or less of the breast. Danni's bikini top looked several sizes too small as it was stretched over her big, round breasts. At full width, the gold triangles covered all of Arya's breasts, but Danni wasn't satisfied with the way Arya had put it on. Arya felt her nipples tingle and grow under Danni's gentle touch as she pulled the sides of the triangle in, so the material was gathered together, exposing more of Arya's soft curves and instantly making her breasts look bigger and fuller.

"Oui!" Danni exclaimed "Perfect! Now zee bottom."

Arya, less self consciously now, picked up the bikini bottom. It, again, consisted of just two triangles attached to thin laces that had to be fastened at the sides.

"Ah, so you like the Brazilian?" purred Danni, admiring Arya's hairless pussy. "Do you think zat is what English men like? Jon tells me 'e likes my…how do you say?… '_bush_', but a man will say what they think you like to 'ear. No?"

Arya dropped her eyes to the top of Danni's legs to see the 'bush' she referred. Sure enough, little golden curls protruded from the sides and the top of the silver bikini. Arya wondered why she had never noticed before, but then, she hadn't been staring directly at Danni's crotch before. Arya found the sight of the escaping curls surprisingly arousing.

"I will 'elp you" Danni exclaimed and took the scrap of material from Arya. With practiced, confident hands, Danni held the smaller triangle in front of Arya's freshly waxed vulva. Arya had never experienced such an intimate touch from a woman and it felt comforting and yet also highly sexually. Danni continued to press the front of the bikini against Arya's skin and guided the larger triangle between her legs and to her buttocks. Danni's hand gently grazed the insides of Arya's thighs as she worked, before gently pressing the larger triangle onto her bottom.

"Now you tie, Arya. High on the hip."

Arya caught the two ends of the laces and tried to tie a bow above her hip bone. As she fumbled with the laces, Danni's hands moved softly with the material as Arya pulled at it. Arya was shocked that such slight, glancing contact could have such an effect on her. She was feeling the same electric current flowing from her clit to her nipples and back that she felt when Gendry touched her. When he touched her, it wasn't subtle like this; he was firm and purposeful and she knew she was going to get fucked and get fucked hard. For the first time in her life, she wondered what it would be like with a woman. As soon as the thought entered her head, startled, she pushed it away again, horrified that she was fantasising about Jon's girlfriend. Arya hurriedly tied the laces at the other side and turned away from Danni, intending to leave before any more improper thoughts entered her head.

"Wait, Arya, we are not finished." Danni grabbed Arya's hand and led her over to the full length mirror. The two women stood, side by side, holding hands and looking at their reflections. Danni's huge heels made her almost the same height as Arya, but she was deeply suntanned with a tiny waist, full hips and breasts like over-ripe melons. The silver bikini complimented her pale blonde hair and seemed to make it shine with silver highlights, both her hair and her bikini contrasting exotically with the violet eyes and the deep, golden tan.

Danni had been right about the gold bikini for Arya. It echoed the golden highlights in Arya's hair and gave her paler skin a warm glow. The narrow strips of the bikini top made the most of her high, pert breasts.

"Now, we fix zee bottom."

Arya watching their reflections in the mirror as Danni pulled the gold triangle of material into a narrow strip at the front, revealing the smooth, naked skin of Arya's pussy and leaving _very_ little to the imagination. Moving behind her, Danni did the same to her backside, pulling the material together before pulling Arya's butt cheeks gently apart until she felt the material slide into the cleft of her arse, pressing firmly against her cunt and her anus.

"I don't know about this Danni…" Arya whispered, feeling hotter than she ever had before, but at the same time not wishing to acknowledge that showing so much flesh was turning her on.

"But look at you now Arya. You are stunning! You look like a supermodel. You have such a tight derriere. Every man will want to fuck it and every woman will want to have it."

"You really think so?" Arya asked, turning sideways to take a look at this tight ass she was supposed to have.

Danni didn't answer the question, but the slow smile as she gently ran her hand up from the back of Arya's thigh, over her bottom and up to her hip, was all the answer she needed to give.

"Now, we will show your Gendry 'ow 'ot you are!"

When the two of them walked out onto the patio again, Gendry gave them a long, low wolf whistle. Arya and Danni, both pouted and posed for him in response.

"Jon – move. Come and lie beside me 'ere Arya" Danni said, patting the other side of the circular day bed. Jon got up, grumbling good naturedly, and moved to the lounger beside Gendry while Arya did what she was told. After Danni had filled up their glasses again with the finest gold Arbor wine the Dorchester had, she declared.

"I am zee boss of the suntan oil. I make sure you don't get burnt. Gendry – you first. No arguing!" she ordered when Gendry started to protest."

He had been reclining on the lounger directly in front of Arya, so he sat up and let Danni lean behind him to apply suntan lotion to his back. Danni stuck her arse out towards Jon, and of course he couldn't take his eyes off it. Gendry kept his eyes fixed straight ahead on Arya. Knowing he was watching her, emboldened by the wine and feeling rather unfulfilled and randy from her earlier encounter with Danni, Arya started performing for him. First she dramatically swept her long hair over one shoulder, took off her sunglasses and pouted at him in what she hoped was her most 'come and get me' expression. He licked his bottom lip, but otherwise showed no reaction.

Arya brought her legs up, before letting one knee drop down to the side, giving Gendry a clear view right up to her pussy, straining against the gold material. Without needing to check, Arya knew there would be a dark, wet area visible to him. Lazily she tweaked one nipple through the sheer fabric of her bikini top, watching it harden under her fingers. Licking her lips, she repeated the process with the other nipple.

Danny had now working on Gendry's muscular arms, swearing under her breath in French when she saw the black and purple bruises on his ribs. As she attended to Gendry, all the while she was wiggling her curvy little arse which she was sticking out so far it was practically in John's face. Soon, she was bent over even further as she rubbed the oil into Gendry's hard stomach using slow, circular strokes, sometimes dipping her fingers cheekily down into the waist band of his jeans. Still Gendry kept his eyes fixed on Arya and Jon kept his eyes on Danni's arse. Finally Danni moved to the end of the sun lounger to work oil into his calves and feet. She squatted down on her haunches, giving Arya a magnificent view of the, sliver bikini, filled to bursting by her round, tactile buttocks.

When she finished, she stepped back to admire her handwork. Gendry finally reacted, pulling a classic 'muscle man' pose, flexing his arms so the muscles bulged under his oiled skin. Arya wasn't sure if that was intended for her benefit or Danni's, but she felt her pussy grow wetter at the sight regardless.

"Now you Arya." Danni giggled. Jon seemed to anticipate where this was going to lead and told them all he was going to order food from room service.

Arya wasn't about to copy Gendry's statute act. As Danni approached, Arya arched her back, sticking her breasts out, ready to receive the oil. Danni played along with Arya, pouring the oil from a height into the centre of Arya's chest and then massaging the oil across Arya's breasts. As the bikini top wasn't covering much, Danni had ample opportunity to squeeze and knead Arya's receptive breasts, on the pretext of making sure every inch of exposed flesh was protected from the sun. Arya had to bite her lip to stop herself moaning with pleasure under Danni's touch.

Slowly Danni worked down Arya's flat stomach, then poured some more oil into Arya's belly button, giggling as she watched it pool there, before running straight down south. With her back to Gendry, Danni slid the tips of her fingers into Arya's bikini bottom, gently rubbing some of the oil into Arya's clit. This time, even biting her lip couldn't stop Arya from moaning and bucking up towards Danni's hand. As soon as she reacted like that, Arya expected Gendry to yell at Danni - telling her to stop, get her hand out of there and demand to know what the hell she was doing to his girlfriend. Instead, he opened his mouth, as if to say something, but seemed to change his mind, and shut it again without uttering a word. Seeing Gendry didn't object, Arya would have been more than willing for Danni to continue and was extremely disappointed when she didn't, instead removing her fingers and moving to the end of the bed. Danni proceeded to do the same thing with Arya's legs and feet that she had done to Gendry's, squatting down at the end of the bed. This time it was Gendry who was treated to view.

As soon as Danni had finished, Gendry stood up declared.

"Arya, I need to speak to you. Now."

"Oh dear, I'm in trouble Danni." Arya whispered loudly, trying to sound serious, but ruining the effect by giggling at the end when she caught Danni's eye. Arya sat up and drained her wine glass.

"_Now_ Arya!" Gendry ordered in a tone that made it clear he would tolerate no argument. He waited for Arya to stand up and walk towards the French doors, before following her, without a word or backwards glance to Danni.

"Bathroom Arya. Quickly."

"Oh come on Gendry, it was just a bit of a laugh." Arya, tried to explain over her shoulder as she made her way to what she hoped was the bathroom. She was beginning to worry he was actually really pissed off at her and Danni's behaviour.

"Just keep walking." He replied through gritted teeth.

The first door she opened was, fortunately, the bathroom, but she was still looking for the light cord when Gendry pushed her further into the bathroom. He moved quickly behind her and had an arm around her to steady her before she stumbled. He had the door kicked shut behind them and her pressed up against it, before she had time realise what was happening.

"Gendry I…" she started to explain, but his mouth was crushed onto hers before she had time to finish. His hands were all over her, squeezing her arse and kneading her breasts, while he ground his hips into her, forcing her back against the door. He had never been consumed by such urgent lust before. He grabbed at the laces at the sides of the bikini bottoms, freeing them quickly and paying no attention to where they landed.

"Bend over that now." He growled, jerking his head to the chaise longue in the middle of the bathroom. Finally realising he was mad with desire, rather than simply mad, she did as she was told, sticking her bare bottom up as high into the air as she could. As he hurriedly unfastened his jeans, she knew what was coming next and braced herself against the arm of the chaise longue, ready to receive his cock. There were mirrors all over the bathroom and she could see herself, hair streaming over one shoulder, tits hanging down in the little gold bikini, high heels and arse in the air as he gripped the end of his dick and positioned it against the entrance to her soaking wet pussy.

"I've needed this since I had to watch you try on stuff in that Agent Provocateur shop. Are you ready for me?"

"Always!" she purred back, feeling like a horny slut in a porn movie. He was inside her immediately. She pushed back against him as he rammed into her, quickly building up to a frantic pace. She could see his thick, hairy thighs banging frantically against her arse, the clearly defined muscles of his hips and arms, straining with tension as he held her tight, so he could take her harder. His urgency, the wine, the eroticism of being able to watch him fucking her, his grunts and the slapping of his balls and thighs against her arse were combining to bring her to the brink of orgasm. She pushed back harder against him, urging him to fuck her harder and faster, feeling her orgasm begin to flare just as he pulled out.

"No!" she yelled in frustration as he withdrew, pumped his hand over his cock, spilling great, creamy gouts of jizz over her back. It went on and on. She'd only ever seen that much cum in a porn movie. She felt the warm, viscous liquid run down the crack of her arse and, once he had milked his cock of every last drop, he started massaging the cheeks of her arse, strong hands working the sticky substance over her buttocks. His thumbs pulled her arse cheeks apart and firmly rubbed his cum up and down her crack. She convulsed when his thumbs massaged the tight hole of her anus. She had been so close to coming, the unfamiliar sensation awakened a ravening need in her. She didn't care if she was acting like a whore and she demanded he finish what he started and make her come. He refused and she cursed him, trying to stand up. He grabbed her arms, pinning them to her sides as he held her down over the chaise longue.

"You played games me with Arya. Now it's my turn. I want you to go back out there, gagging for it, like I was." He whispered roughly into her ear.

"That's not fair!" she wailed.

"I had to watch you try on all that fucking underwear this afternoon in a _private changing room_ and I still couldn't touch you because bloody Brienne wouldn't let you out of her sight."

"That's not my fault!" She hissed, starting to get angry.

"I know." He sighed, relenting and letting her go. She stood up, glaring at him and rubbing her arms where he had gripped her too tightly.

"It's _a game_ Arya. It's supposed to be fun. When I do make you come, _and I promise I will,_ it's going to be even better - because I made you wait." She wasn't convinced. All she could see was that he'd ruined the moment for her now.

"Trust me please?" he pleaded, looking worried. She couldn't stay mad at him when he was looking at her like that, and besides, he was naked, jeans still around his ankles. He looked too ridiculously hot to stay mad at.

"Ok" she huffed reluctantly, but there was something else she wanted to ask and she felt he _owed_ her now.

"I…I really liked it when Danni touched me. Would you mind if she did it again?"

"No!" he snorted, pulling up his jeans. "As long as I can watch, you two can do whatever you like."

"Deal then. I'll play your game. Let's go. I want another glass of that delicious gold wine."

When they got back out onto the patio, Jon was fiddling with a big, stainless steel barbeque unit that Arya hadn't even noticed before.

"Room service are sending up a barbeque pack. They offered to send a chef as well, to cook it, but I didn't think that was too good an idea in the circumstances." Jon explained.

While the boys got the barbeque started, and answered the door when room service arrived, the girls started on another bottle of the best Arbor wine.

"So you are in trouble Arya?" Danni enquired with genuine concern.

"Up to my neck." Arya giggled. Danni didn't really understand what she meant, but was relieved her new friend was happy. They chatted about the boys and Jon's new job, Arya's holidays in France and Danni's climbing. In a while, Jon presented them proudly with two, slightly burnt, skewers of chicken tikka and vegetables. Too much wine and heat had dulled the girl's appetite, although, like all the other food they had in the Hotel, the kebabs were exquisite and even the boys burning them hadn't been able to ruin them. They nibbled on a bit of salad, but soon returned to the golden wine.

By now, it was evening and the sun was sinking lower in the sky. Hyde Park was emptying, as the sunbathers left and Jon lit the patio heaters so they didn't get chilled as the air cooled. The boys had switched to whisky and Arya had lost count of the glasses of wine she had drunk. She felt very pleasantly drunk and relaxed. When she noticed Jon smoking something, she initially assumed it was another of Renly's Cuban cigars, but when he passed to Gendry, who, in turn, passed it to Danni, she realised it probably wasn't a cigar after all. Danni took a leisurely pull on the fat joint, slowly exhaling smoke through delicate nostrils.

"I brought the finest 'ash from France." She declared proudly, offering the joint to Arya. Arya was horrified. Surely that was a terrible risk, bringing drugs into the country?

"But I only brought for personal use and – on a private jet, who will look?"

Arya declined, only to have Gendry to urge her to give it a go. 'What the hell' she thought. She would never been in safer company than she was tonight. Arya gingerly took the joint and tried to suck on it. Having not smoked tobacco before, never mind a spliff, Arya couldn't inhale and simply spluttered a bit before handing it back to Jon.

"You'll never get any hit off it, if you don't inhale Arya. Watch." Jon said, sucking hard on the joint and holding the smoke in his lungs for what seemed like ages, before blowing three perfect smoke rings.

"You don't need to try the smoke rings." Gendry added sarcastically. After Gendry and Danni had another toke, Arya tried again and only succeeded in coughing more.

"Really, I'm not bothered." She protested as the rest of them urged her to try again.

"I know what to do. Come 'ere" Danni ordered. Arya, shuffled across the circular daybed, until she lay on her side, facing Danni. Danni took a big drag of the joint and then, to Arya's shock, crushed her lips onto Arya's. Arya's mouth opened in shock at the audacity of Danni kissing her in front of Gendry and Jon. Arya gasped with surprise just as Danni exhaled. Arya inadvertently drew the smoke into her lungs, just as Danni intended.

Arya felt instantly different. She didn't know if it was because of the drug or Danni's kiss.

"Do it to me again" She begged. Danni obliged, and this time Arya was ready for her, opening her mouth and savouring the taste of sweet Arbor wine on Danni's soft lips. This time it was Danni who broke away first.

"I think you 'ave the idea now Arya. Gendry – do you want to try her?" Gendry waved the joint away.

"No, Danni, you're doing fine. Carry on."

Danni proceeded to give Arya a blowback for a third time. Arya now knew she was high on something. It could have been the hot summer night, the wine, her first kiss from a woman; Gendry's leaving her begging for more, the drug, or a mixture of all those things.

Danni passed the joint to the boys, before stoking Arya's hair gently and asking her how she was feeling.

"Hmm, wonderful and _very_ turned on." Arya whispered truthfully. Danni slowly stroked her fingers down the side of Arya's face and over Arya's bottom lip. On a wild impulse, Arya drew one of Danni's fingers into her mouth with her tongue and sucked on it. She rejoiced when Danni's eyes flew open with surprise and a little squeal of delight escaped her lips. Arya sucked harder. Danni didn't remove her finger, but staring directly into Arya's grey eyes, used her other hand to tweak Arya's nipple. It was Arya's turn to give a little squeal, letting Danni's finger fall from her mouth as she did so. Before Arya had decided what to do next, Danni kissed her again. It took Arya a few moments, in her blissed out state, to realise that Danni wasn't giving her a blowback this time, that all she had in her mouth was a very soft, wet tongue and she was now sharing it with Arya.

Everything about the kiss was different from kissing a man. There was no stubble, no hard jaw, it was soft as velvet and slow; the lips, the tongue, the teeth were all delicate and undemanding. Instead of beer or whisky she tasted sweet wine and instead of a strong hand, kneading her breast with demanding fingers, her nipple was being gently circled by a woman's small, knowing fingers.

Arya knew she had already been given Gendry's approval for this. She was too lost in the moment, as she and Danni began to subtly explore each other's bodies, to check his reaction. Had she looked, she would have seen Jon lying on his back beside Danni, ignoring the two women, slowly smoking the last of the joint and Gendry sitting opposite them, transfixed by their passion for each other.

It was a long time before Gendry noticed that Jon had started screwing Danni slowly from behind. He had been too busy watching the two beautiful women kiss and fondle each other, to notice that Jon had untied Danni's bikini and had slipped his cock into her cunt. Jon's thick cock disappeared, half buried in a mass of delicate, golden curls, but stuffing Danni so full that her clit was forced out from its hiding place. The distended, hard nub was clearly visible, poking out like a dark jewel from amongst golden hair.

The raging hard-on in his jeans was also demanding urgent attention and Gendry slipped off his jeans, lying down behind Arya and curling himself around her hot, oiled body, just as Jon had done to Danni.

Arya moaned as she felt his hard cock press into her back and he whispered into her ear, telling her to touch Danni's clit. Propped up on one elbow, he was able to see Arya's long, slim fingers reach down to find Danni's needy clit. Danni jerked backwards further onto Jon's cock as Arya's long nails found their target. Arya began to strum Danni's clit gently as he'd seen her do to her own. Gendry heard Danni moan deeply and Jon grunt with every slow stroke as he rhythmically slid in, withdrew and pumped up again into Danni's cunt.

Wishing to return the favour, Danni reached for and found Arya's clit. Gendry could tell by Arya's high, gasping little cries that it wouldn't take long for her to come. He slid his rock hard cock easily into her pussy. She was slicker than ever before and he was able to push his dick all the way in within the first few strokes, feeling her muscles suck at his cock with ever thrust. Unexpectedly, he felt a hand grip his balls and roll them together. The fingers felt practiced as the nails tickled the underside of his heavy scrotum, before circling it and working his balls in time with the slow rhythm he was using to screw Arya. He guessed the hand belonged to Danni, but he couldn't see to be sure. What he could see were Jon's hairy balls, swinging free as he began to ram up into Danni with an increasing urgency.

When Gendry awoke the next morning and remembered what he had done next, the only justification he could offer for his actions was that he was high and drunk and that the hand on his own balls felt so good, he wanted Jon to have the same experience. As he obviously couldn't ask Arya to attend to them, and as Danni's hands seemed to already be full with Arya's clit and his own balls, he reached down and started rolling and tickling Jon's balls himself.

As Gendry thrust up into Arya, he pushed her further into Danni and as Jon was thrusting into Danni with equal and opposing force, the two women were forced closer together, their bodies being rubbed against each other, by them men screwing them. The girls were tonguing each others mouths, uninhibited and wild with lust. Gendry watched in amazement as Danni's big, soft globes of tits and her huge, brown nipples were mashed into Arya's firm, perfect breasts. Arya's hard, pink nipples, sticking up like pencils in the night air, were buried in Danni's tits every time Gendry thrust up into Arya, only to reappear again as he pulled back, before he rammed her into Danni again and again and again.

He was aware of the sound of his own sawing breath, mixing together with Jon's low grunts, Danni's moans and Arya's panting cries. He couldn't have said which one of them came first, as they were all so interdependent on each other for their pleasure. He did know that, within minutes, vibrations from all of their orgasms had shuddered through them; all four of them experiencing, what had to be one of the best, most hedonistic orgasms they would every have.

A while later…

"Gendry" Arya mumbled into his shoulder as he lifted her up into his arms.

"Uh-huh" he replied.

"I kissed a girl".

He smiled.

"I know you did Arya."

"…and I liked it." She opened one sleepy eye in order to gauge his reaction.

He grinned.

"I liked it too. Just don't go doing it when I'm not around."

"I won't." She murmured as she snuggled back into his shoulder. He carried her towards the door.

"Gendry."

"Uh-huh."

"I'm hungry."

"We're going to bed Arya."

"But I'm _starving_."

He laughed.

"I guess someone has the munchies, eh?"

He turned around and walked back out onto the patio, past the sleeping Jon and Danni, curled up on the day bed together like a pair of cats.

"I think there's still some Kebabs in that dish." He dropped his shoulder so she could reach them. Arya picked up the whole covered platter.

"Put the dish down Arya. I think you'd better leave some for Jon and Danni."

She looked up at him with a petted lip.

"Put the dish down Arya. Just take a couple."

She did what she was told, grabbing four skewers before he set off again towards their room with Arya already nibbling on the first one.

**Phew! I've never written anything like that before. Hope it was hot. Feedback would be appreciated.**


	11. Chapter 11 FULL MOON part 1 - Arya & Jon

FULL MOON PART 1 – ARYA & JON

"He said they'd meet us in the foyer in five minutes" Arya moaned, checking her phone again "…and that was half an hour ago."

"Something must have come up" Brienne offered by way of an explanation.

"I bloody well know exactly what's _come up_." Arya huffed. She was tired and hung over and really not in the best frame of mind to be sitting around waiting for Jon and Daenerys or for putting up with Brienne's over protective hovering.

"Can you not sit down please Brienne?" she moaned. "There are security guards all over the place. I'm sure we'll still be safe if you sit down."

"Semper Vigilans" Brienne muttered under her breath and remained standing to attention beside Arya's seat.

"What does that mean?" Arya asked, not really caring, but at the same time, not wanting to be rude and also desperate to kill a few more minutes until Jon showed up and they could be on their way.

"_Always Vigilant -_ It's the motto of House Tarth. Quite appropriate, don't you think?"

Since Arya had arrived in London, unless she was on the heavily guarded, eighth floor of the hotel, Brienne had been a constant presence by her side. Renly had paired them up as soon as the convoy of cars from Storm's End had arrived outside The Dorchester. 'Member of Renly's Rainbow Guard' Brienne had introduced herself proudly, with a solemn smile and a firm handshake. Arya hadn't heard of the 'Rainbow Guard' before, but knew that a rainbow flag was something to do with Gay Pride, so supposed that was a fitting name for Renly's bodyguards.

Brienne had explained later that Renly had coined the phrase for his seven longest serving and most loyal guards; with Loras as 'Lord Commander'. Given what Loras had said about needing a right hand man, Arya wondered if the intention was for Jon to be trained to succeed as Lord Commander of the Rainbow Guard someday. She had no doubt that, if Gendry stayed at Storm's End, he would have had something to say about Jon joining the 'Rainbow Guard'. However, Gendry had promised her repeatedly over the past two days that they were not going to return to Storm's End, so it was academic now.

"Well, I suppose it's better than 'Winter is bloody coming'. I mean, what is that all about? Winter is always bloody coming isn't it? Unless it's already here, in which case it makes even less sense." Arya grumbled.

Her hangover was getting worse the longer they sat here doing nothing and she really wasn't looking forward to returning to Winterfell with Jon to confront their father (or maybe _her_ father, depending on what he had to say for himself). The last time she had seen him he had tried to slap her face and only Gendry's intervention had prevented it. Her last conversation with her father played over again in her head

"_I know his type_" her father had said "_trust me; you'll be better off without him. You don't know what I know. I am saving you from making a mess of your life and you'll thank me for it one day."_

She realised she hadn't had a clue what he was talking about then; even now, she wasn't entirely sure. What did her father mean by Gendry's _type_? At the time she'd thought he meant poor, with no prospects, and she'd raged against her parent's for being so snobby and materialistic, but she realised now that probably wasn't what her father had meant at all. She knew now that Gendry was definitely Robert Baratheon's son and that Lyanna's untimely death was _somehow_ linked to Lord Baratheon. Had her father meant he knew Gendry was like Robert or maybe he meant a Werewolf? Why hadn't her father been honest with her from the start?

When she'd screamed back at him,

"_So tell me about Lyanna then! Did you save her from making a mess of her life?_

_DID YOU?_"

Her father had tried to hit her. For the first time in her life, her wonderful father had raised his hand to her in anger. When she'd walked out with Gendry, she'd never intended to go back, but now, maybe everything had changed. Maybe her father had tried and failed to save Lyanna and maybe he was right to be worried sick now. After all, Arya had already survived one attempt on her life since she'd started going out with Gendry.

And what about Jon? If Ned had hidden the fact that he wasn't Jon's father for twenty six years, what else had he hidden? Maybe she and Jon would find out today.

She decided not to think anymore about it now. They still had to get Danni to the airport and then it was at least an hour and a half drive to Winterfell, IF they had no problems with the traffic. To take her mind off her father, she thought about Gendry and what they would do after today was over, but they all had to get through today first. Renly had some big meeting he wanted Gendry to attend. After that, Gendry was going to see Lord Baratheon to try to get the truth out of him about Lyanna's death and about whether he raped Mrs Waters. Gendry, Jon and she had arranged that they would meet up back at The Dorchester that evening to discuss what they had found out. Tonight was the full moon, so they had agreed the three of them had to be back in the hotel no later that seven o'clock. Sunset was at nine and they weren't going to take any chances by being out in the moonlight tonight.

Arya was so lost in her thoughts; she had forgotten she had been talking to Brienne who was still standing beside her

"_Ours is the fury_ does seem quite apt for the Baratheons don't you think?" Arya asked

"No! Renly's not like that at all! I don't know what you mean." Brienne snapped back.

Arya was beginning to learn that saying anything, even remotely negative about Renly, was inevitably going to result in Brienne leaping to his defence.

"Ok, maybe not Renly, but you obviously don't know Gendry very well, or Lord Robert from what I hear. Everyone's called Gendry 'The Bull' since he was little. I always though it was just because he was stubborn. He was never angry with me, but recently, since he met Renly actually, everything's seemed like waving a red rag to a bull."

"What time did they leave?" asked Brienne, trying to steer the conversation away from Gendry. She wasn't quite sure what she thought about Renly's nephew yet, but hearing Arya talking about him made her feel uncomfortable. Quite why she felt so ill at ease she didn't know, given that she'd only met Gendry and Arya the day before. She just knew she didn't want to hear about their relationship.

"I don't know, I was half asleep. About eight I think." Arya groaned, sinking back onto the plush designer couch and closing her eyes, wishing she was still asleep.

"Renly did say they had a lot to do today."

"Yeah, so I hear. Well, so have we and if Jon and Danni don't hurry up she'll miss that flight."

"Isn't the whole point of a private jet that it'll wait for you?" Brienne pointed out.

"Harrumph. I hope Jon doesn't realise that or we'll be bloody waiting here for ever." Arya groaned.

She wasn't sure if she nodded off or if her eyes had only been closed for a few seconds, but next thing she knew, she was startled by Brienne asking

"Is your brother like a male version of you and is Miss Targaryen short with white hair?"

"Oh…" Arya muttered, jerking back to consciousness. "Yeah."

"Here they come. They've just got out of the lift."

A very rough looking Jon had his arm around Danni, who looked fresh as a daisy and chic as any Parisian.

"Bonjour Arya!" Danni bubbled, kissing Arya briefly on each cheek in a typical French greeting. Arya wished she'd taken a bit more care over her own appearance that morning, feeling self-conscious about her lack of grooming and also slightly embarrassed about what had happened last night.

Danni didn't smell of suntan oil this morning, but of some, expensive, musky perfume. Her breasts felt soft and full as they brushed against Arya's bare arms while the girls exchanged polite, chaste kisses. Arya felt a flush rise to her face as she remembered how good Danni had felt and tasted the night before. _It was Gendry's fault, _she told herself; he had encouraged her intimacy with Jon's girlfriend. Yes, bloody hell – _Jon's girlfriend_. Arya couldn't look Jon in the eye, although she didn't even remember seeing her big brother after the joint smoking thing - _oh God, she'd taken drugs._ She'd almost forgotten about that as it seemed rather insignificant compared to the other things she'd got up to last night. Arya wasn't sure what Jon had seen, or what he would say to her about it after Danni left. _Oh God_. Her head hurt even more.

"I am so sorry I 'av to go. Last night was fun, no? Where is your Gendry and who is ziss?" Danni asked, giving Brienne a curious look up and down.

"Brienne Tarth, meet Daenerys Targaryen and my brother Jon." Arya introduced them all.

Brienne held out her hand, which first Jon then Danni shook politely. Looking at the two girls together, it was hard to accept that they weren't from two different branches of the tree of 'Womankind'. Brienne was noticeably taller even than Jon, and he was about six foot one. Arya guessed Brienne must have been as tall as Gendry and almost as broad. Arya was certain she had never seen a woman as… well…as 'big' before.

Brienne of the Rainbow Guard was wearing a black trouser suit, which hid any curves she may have had and Doc Martin utilitarian boots. Her sandy coloured hair was cut in the same military style Loras favoured and, at first, or even second glance, she would easily be mistaken for a man. The hand she held out to Danni was large and powerful, blunt fingers giving no hint of femininity. Brienne's make up free face, although not overtly masculine, had no evidence of the grooming that most women paid attention to. Her eyebrows were thick and unshaped and, without any mascara, her blond eyelashes might as well have been non-existent. Some foundation or even some tinted moisturiser would have evened out her skin tone, but she chose to wear neither, and her ruddy cheeks and the wide nose covered with innumerable freckles reminded Arya of a farmer or, if she was being generous, a farmer's wife.

Even in her heels, Danni only came up to Brienne's broad, flat chest. In complete contrast to Brienne, every curvy inch of Danni was groomed and polished to perfection. The navy city shorts with the thin tan belt and the gossamer silk blouse only served to accentuate her classic hour-glass, feminine shape. Her pale blond hair tumbled down her back, almost to her slim waist and the dainty manicured hand she extended was engulfed by Brienne's heavy, strong one.

"Ow do you do?" Danni asked, trying to sound British and only succeeding in sounding very French.

"Very well, Miss Targaryen. It is my job to see you safely to your plane, so if you will follow me…"

Arya had to stifle a giggle when she saw the shock on Danni's face. Brienne didn't have the deep, masculine voice Danni expected and, upon hearing Brienne's, polite, ladylike voice, the French woman did a double take. Danni struggled to keep her composure and not blurt out what she was obviously thinking as she looked from Brienne to Arya to Jon and back again.

They all followed Brienne out into the sunlit lane where Gendry's Aston Martin and another big, black car were waiting for them.

"Pick your car" Brienne instructed. All three of them walked to the Aston Martin.

"Can I drive Brienne?" pleaded Jon.

"Not on your life!" Retorted Brienne, but as she strode around him to the drivers door she whispered "Wait until we're in Winterfell" and winked at him conspiratorially.

"Tarth leading in vehicle A" Brienne barked to the three men in black suits standing expectantly beside the other car. Jon and Danni sat in the back of Gendry's car, Arya beside Brienne and the small convoy started towards the airport.

The traffic was light and Arya felt better knowing that they were at least doing something now, rather than waiting around. She could hear Jon whispering to Danni in the back, but couldn't make out what he was saying. That was probably just as well, given Danni's giggling and cooing responses.

Over the past few days, Arya had found Brienne to be surprisingly good company. She hadn't expected they would have had anything in common, and had scolded herself a few times for jumping to conclusions about Brienne based solely on her looks. That was the kind of thing Sansa and her friends would do and not something Arya was proud of, or wanted to find herself doing again. Alright, so Brienne had no interest in clothes or make up, but until a couple of years ago, neither had Arya. The two of them liked the same books and music and Brienne had lots of interesting stories about Renly and Loras (who she appeared to respect, but not like) and even famous pop and movie stars. Before she worked exclusively for Renly, when she had just started in the security business, she had been in high demand as a as a capable and intimidating female bodyguard for every female star passing through London. Inevitably there were places Brienne could go that male close protection couldn't and Brienne seemed to have been making more money, working fewer hours (and Arya thought – having more fun) before she joined Renly's Rainbow Guard.

It took Arya a while to puzzle out why Brienne chose to work for Renly. Brienne couldn't answer the question to Arya's satisfaction when Arya asked her directly. Although Arya doubted Brienne would never admit it, even to herself, she seemed to have a huge, girly crush on her gay employer.

The way Brienne spoke about him, Arya could see the attraction. Arya's recent opinion of Renly had been coloured by the unsettling information he had revealed, the unpleasant effect he seemed to have on Gendry who turned into an aggressive, obnoxious pain in the arse when Renly was around (or maybe that was when Loras was around) and the ridiculous Werewolf claims. Actually, Arya was possibly beginning to think there might be some truth in the Werewolf claims, but she was still having trouble admitting to herself they could even exist.

The Renly that Brienne spoke of was kind, considerate and generous with his time, affection and wealth. That had been Arya's initial impression of Renly and spending two days with Brienne, hearing her sing his praises made Arya realise that perhaps she had been too quick to damn him. Arya had skirted around the Werewolf issue, alluding to it, without having the nerve to ask Brienne outright, but Brienne had never taken the bait or referred to it at all, so Arya was no further forward with her investigations in that respect.

When they arrived at the airport, the same male cabin crew member that had carried Danni's bags off the plane was waiting to carry them on. He was clearly anxious to board and politely advised them that a take off slot had been allocated and as another was not available for nearly three hours, if they missed this there would be a lengthy delay. Arya was relieved that there wasn't time for an extended goodbye. She hugged Danni briefly and kissed her cheeks again, before passing her back to Jon who enveloped her in his arms and wouldn't let go until the cabin crew started coughing unsubtly. Jon even trailed after Danni, holding one of her hands until he was forced to let go of it when she had to walk up the stairs to the aircraft. Arya had never seen Jon behave like this around any girl before and found it strange to see her calm, practical, unflappable brother so smitten now.

The three of them stood and watched the Gulfstream jet taxi slowly away to join a distant line of planes waiting for take off. Arya and Brienne wanted to leave then, but Jon insisted on staying until the jet was airborne and then out of sight. He looked utterly miserable and Arya forced herself to overcome her lingering embarrassment about her antics the night before and go over and give him a sisterly hug. He leant on her and sighed

"I didn't want her to leave."

"So what was stopping you getting on that plane with her? Anyone could see that she didn't want to leave you either. What's keeping you here?"

"Oh God, nothing. But it's more complicated at her end." He groaned.

"Oh?" Arya asked, desperately wanting to know more, but not wanting to be seen to nosey or make Jon feel he had to tell her if he didn't want to. He seemed to want to share.

"She's just ended a thing with a big surfer dude from Hawaii and he's not taking it well."

"Oh?" said Arya, even more intrigued now.

"Yeah, apparently he looks and acts like Conan the Barbarian and she thinks it's a good idea if I wait until he's gone before I go over there."

Arya didn't like the sound of that. Danni didn't seem like the kind of girl to tolerate anything, or anyone who annoyed her. Arya knew too many girls that, whatever their relationship status, would jump at the chance to fly to a foreign country on a private jet for a weekend of hot, no strings sex in a five star hotel. A fantasy dirty weekend. Real life was inevitably 'more complicated' as Danni put it. Arya couldn't think of anything to say to Jon to reassure him and instead just squeezed his hand to let him know she was there for him.

The Traffic wasn't too bad and they made good time to Westeros and were going to arrive in Winterfell with plenty of time to spare. Jon's plan was to wait on Ned coming out of his weekly Estate Management meeting with Jory. Jon said their routine had been the same for years and that would be the best time to catch Ned on his own so they could talk to him. With time to kill, they decided to get something to eat.

Arya would have loved to have been able to take Jon to Hot Pie's pub, but they didn't have enough time to go half way to Harrenhal to The Kneeling Man, so they made do with The Wolf's Head, where Gendry's mum used to work. Arya had never given a second thought to the name of the pub before, but walking under the painted sign of a severed Wolf's head, dripping blood, she felt a shiver of apprehension. Jon let Brienne and Arya enter first. Brienne insisted on being in the lead to 'assess the situation', despite Jon's repeated assurances that this was his 'local' and there was no need for such security here.

Arya was right behind Brienne and she heard all conversation stop and felt all eyes turn to the two of them as soon as they walked in. The faces didn't look welcoming. Brienne stuck her arm out; halting Arya in her tracks. Arya felt the tension in Brienne's arm and saw her eyes darting around the room, noting all exits from the pub and 'assessing the situation'. Jon followed a few steps behind, having to make his way around the women to get in. As soon as the locals saw him, a few of them shouted out a greeting and the atmosphere in the pub changed instantly.

Arya had been in the pub countless times with Gendry when his mum worked there (not that she would have ever have admitted that to Lady Catelyn or her father). Mrs Waters would always find them a little job to do, which was rewarded with a coke, or if they were very lucky, crisps or peanuts from behind the bar. Arya had never been in The Wolf's Head when she had been old enough to actually drink and she certainly didn't recognise anyone now.

Jon strode up to the bar and, loudly introduced 'his little sister Arya and her friend Brienne' to the barman. It was obviously said so the whole pub could hear and Arya overheard several very unsubtle comments in response - along the lines of 'she's certainly changed', and 'who's that _friend _of hers'?' Arya deliberately smiled politely into every corner of the bar as she followed Brienne to stand beside Jon.

"You not working today Jon?" asked the barman nosily.

"No, I've got a new job." Jon replied. Arya thought she could have heard a pin drop as everyone in the pub leant towards the bar, straining to hear the latest village gossip.

"A Stark working aways from Winterfell? What's Lord Stark got to say about that then?"

Arya couldn't believe how rude the barman was being; pumping Jon for information about their father. Arya was about to tell the barman that it was none of his bloody business what Jon did or what Lord Stark thought about it, when Jon, sensing her bristling with indignation, drew her a warning look and replied

"Gendry and I got an offer to work on another Estate. Money's too good to miss and you know what they pay around here."

"Aye" the barman grumbled "only too well."

"So we'll just sit over there and order some food." Jon nodded to a table against one of the walls, before turning and indicating to the two girls that they should go and sit down.

"Nice place - your local." Brienne said sarcastically, as she sat down heavily on the seat facing the door.

"The food's ok and the drink's cheap." Jon shrugged. "It's just like any village pub - gossip central. Everyone in Winterfell and their dog will know within half an hour that Gendry and I are away."

"Yeah, great! That's just what the…you know who's… needed to hear. First lesson you need to learn Rookie is _to keep your mouth shut_!" Brienne scolded. Jon had the good grace to look embarrassed and mutter 'sorry' under his breath.

They ordered some stodgy pub grub and, only when she was devoured, did Arya feel her hangover had subsided enough to tackle the task they had come here to do.

As they walked back to Gendry's car and Brienne was temporarily out of earshot Arya hung back further and hissed at Jon

"Before we talk to Dad, I need to ask you about that dead wolf you found years ago when we were all on that nature walk."

Jon looked at her blankly

"Oh, you must remember! In the snow - Sansa and I never even got to see the carcass, but you and Robb were up ahead and Dad really panicked and made us all run away from it. Remember?"

Jon pulled a face and racked his memory.

"Shit! I'd forgotten all about that. Yeah, Dad gave us some crap story that it had escaped from a wildlife park."

"So you didn't believe him?"

"I guess I did at the time, but I kept looking for something in the local paper or on the news and there wasn't anything. That should have been news. I knew there weren't any wildlife parks in Westeros back then, but you believe everything your Dad tells you when you're a kid don't you? Or at least I did. Afterwards he wouldn't talk about it, which was strange. That wolf was huge Arya, not like the scrawny ones you see on the TV. I mean, it was fascinating to Robb and me at the time, but Dad told us never to mention it again. Yeah, looking back on it, it was all very strange."

"So what do you think now?"

"I don't know. I haven't thought about it for years. I think we should ask him this afternoon."

"Ok, let's add it to the list."

True to her word, Brienne let Jon drive the Aston Martin from the pub into the Winterfell grounds. First she made him promise not to mention it to Loras and then she confided that she was a bit of a 'petrol head' and could understand why he was desperate to have a go. Although the journey took less than fifteen minutes, Jon was like a little boy with a new toy and, for a short while at least, Daenerys Targaryen was forgotten.

Driving back through the Winterfell gates, Arya felt the same shiver of apprehension she had experienced walking under the Wolf's Head sign. Winterfell didn't fee like home anymore.

Jory's office was a glorified shed close to the barracks that Jon had called home until a few days before. Brienne had, reluctantly, agreed to stay with the other three bodyguards in the support car, able to watch, but not able to hear. Jon parked the Aston Martin in front of Ned's Mercedes, blocking it in and he and Arya sat, watching the door, waiting for Ned to appear.

They didn't have long to wait. As soon as they saw Ned open the door, Jon and Arya jumped out of the car. Ned had just shut the door behind him when he looked up and saw the two of them.

"You two didn't stay away long" he observed coldly "and it looks like prostituting yourself to the Baratheons pays well." he nodded to the Aston Martin. Arya was taken aback by his attitude and shocked by his language. What did he mean by 'prostituting yourself'? Although they had parted on bad terms, she had still expected her father to welcome her they way he always had, with a smile and a hug. She felt as if a metal band was constricting her heart and she felt tears well up in her eyes.

"Pay's better than here." Jon replied, equally coldly "We're not staying. We just want to ask you a few questions."

"You can ask. I'm not saying I'll answer." Ned started walking towards his car. Jon deliberately strode into his path, causing Ned to stop in his tracks. Lord Stark would have to walk around Jon if he wanted to avoid his questions.

Arya was struck by how alike they were. It had been years since she'd seen the two of them standing together like this. In fact, she had probably never seen just the two of them together since Jon became a man. They were the same height, same build with the same determined set to their shoulders and jaw. Her father's hair was greying now, but it still had the same dark, wiry curl as Jon's.

"I see you're not going to make this easy for me son."

"No. I'm not – _Ned_."

Lord Stark's face paled when Jon called him by his first name.

**To be continued…**


	12. Chapter 12 FULL MOON part 2 - Ned

FULL MOON PART 2 – NED

"I see you're not going to make this easy for me son." Lord Stark sighed.

"No. I'm not – _Ned_."

Lord Stark's face paled when Jon called him by his first name, but his reply was defiant.

"So what do you want to ask me _Jon_?"

"Who's my mother?"

For an instant, Ned's eyes widened with shock, but he quickly recovered his steely composure.

"Oh come on. We've been over this before. You've seen your birth certificate." Ned started walking to Jon's left, towards his car. Jon moved to block his way, causing Ned to stop suddenly. The men were only a foot apart now; within touching distance.

"Don't bullshit me. I've seen the faked certificate you showed me and now I've seen the real one. So who's Wylla Sand?"

Ned paused, pursed his lips and held up his open palms to Jon, in a gesture that was at once both conciliatory and dismissive.

"Ok. I had an affair. I doctored the certificate to avoid embarrassing Catelyn any further and to avoid awkward questions from you when you got older."

"You didn't answer my question. Who is Wylla Sand?" Jon's voice was still calm and controlled, while Ned's was raised and impatient when he answered.

"A nobody. Just a random woman."

"A random name you mean! And a nobody because she didn't exist. I'm going to ask you again _Ned_. Who's my mother?"

"I told you! I lost contact. I don't even know if she's alive or dead." Ned was shouting now.

"Ok. If you won't tell me who my mother is, tell me who my father really is."

"Come on son, I don't know why you're talking like this." Ned groaned; palms open towards Jon now, pleading.

"I'll go and ask Jory shall I? Or Catelyn?" Jon spat out Lady Stark's name. "Or everyone down at the Wolf's Head? I'm sure eventually _someone_ will tell me where The Bastard of Winterfell came from!"

Ned moaned and rubbed both of his big hands over his face.

"Come with me. You too Arya." He ordered wearily. Without explaining to them where they were going, he strode off, away from Winterfell House and Jory's office; off towards the open countryside.

Jon reached for Arya's arm and the two of them followed behind, Arya having to half run in her heels, to keep up with Jon and Ned's long strides.

"Any idea where we're going?" Arya whispered to Jon.

"It can only be the mausoleum."

Arya had only once been close to the imposing, grey granite memorial to her ancestors. It had always scared her, and Sansa worse, when they were kids. Jon and Robb had thought themselves terribly brave to climb the dry stone wall that encircled it, run up the steep hill to the mausoleum at the top, touch the black iron wolf's head that hung in the centre of the door and run away again, before any of the ghosts caught them.

Only once, when her brothers had dared her and then double dared her, had Arya followed them, to prove that she was no coward like Sansa. Being older and bigger then her, Jon and Robb had scaled the wall easily and run uphill, standing in front of the massive, weathered door shouting at her to hurry up and to 'stop running like a girl'.

As soon as she'd reached the top of the hill, they'd run back down again, leaving her alone and terrified in front of the wolf's head. Only Sansa screaming '_Come back Arya_' had given her the courage _not_ to run away – she might be the younger sister but she would prove she was a true Stark, descendent of the Kings of Winter and much braver than Sansa. So she stood her ground and slowly reached out a trembling hand to touch the wolf's head, expecting the heavy door to be wrenched open at any second and for a ghostly claw to grab her, dragging her inside to steal her from the light forever.

The instant her hand made contact with the cold, iron wolf's head she turned around and ran. Jon and Robb, who were already at the bottom of the hill and climbing back over the wall, started screaming 'It's after you Arya – Ruuuuuuuuuuuuuun!' And she ran faster than she had ever run before, as if the wolves of hell were at her heels. Only once she had scrambled safely over the wall, did she see her brothers, doubled over, tears streaming down their faces, as they howled with laughter.

"Sorry for running away and leaving you." Jon muttered, squeezing her hand. He was obviously reliving the same memory she was. Arya squeezed his hand back in wordless forgiveness.

Ned took a bunch of keys from his pocket and unlocked the padlock that secured the wrought iron gates set in the circular stone wall. He strode through and up the steep hill. Arya remembered the grass being short when she was young, but it was now knee high. Everything was overgrown and unkempt.

"I haven't been able to face coming here for a long time." Ned muttered, by way of explanation.

Arya and Jon trudged up the hill as Ned, already at the door, moved a large lump of granite and retrieved a thick, oily piece of green canvas that was hidden under it. He unwrapped the canvas to reveal an enormous black key. Ned had to put his shoulder to the weathered door before he could turn the key in the lock. Even when the door was unlocked it wouldn't open. Ned didn't ask for Jon's help and Jon didn't offer it. Ned had to pulling on the door with all his strength before it would budge.

As soon as the door juddered open, the smell of stale air and decay assaulted them. Arya was reluctant to leave the sunny afternoon to walk into the tomb. The ghost stories they used to scare themselves with as kids were bubbling up through her subconscious and making her shiver in the summer sun. Ned and Jon walked straight into the dark and, suddenly being alone outside seemed worse than being with them inside, so she took a last deep breath of fresh air and stepped in.

It took her eyes a few seconds to adjust to the gloom. The light from the open door behind them provided a semi circle of brightness for a few feet, but beyond that it was dark as the grave. Her father opened an old wooden cupboard by the door, took out a torch that wouldn't switch on, and then matches and candles in a zip lock bag. Ned set the candles in candlesticks, lit them and handed one each to Jon and Arya. As they moved forward, the flickering flames cast unfamiliar, dancing shadows over the walls of the tomb. Picking up two candle sticks, Ned headed towards the circular staircase that twisting down into the crypt.

Jon waited for Arya to follow her father, while he brought up the rear. Arya felt for her phone in her pocket, praying she would get a network reception, in case the door somehow closed behind them. For once, she hoped that Brienne was following them.

The steps were so narrow that descending was awkward and dangerous in the near dark. There was no handrail and Arya had to run her free hand along the rough wall, hewn from the rock by long forgotten hands, hundreds of years ago. After two revolutions, the staircase ended in the crypt. Their flickering candles illuminated life sized carvings of sleeping warriors and maidens, lining the walls on either side of a narrow passageway that sloped down into inky darkness.

"Here lie your ancestors." Ned's voice echoed eerily in the crypt, giving the impression of another Ned, waiting for them in the darkness. "I will also lie here one day, but where you end up depends on the path you choose now."

As they walked past row upon row of long dead Starks, Ned whispered their names under his breath, like a prayer he had neglected to teach to his children. Arya felt increasingly uneasy by the thought of the bodies lying in their coffins all around her and the weight of the rock above. She was aware of her breath in the stagnant air becoming faster and shallower. Just when she thought she was going to have to bolt back out towards the sunlight, Ned stopped and in the flickering candlelight she saw that there were no more statues, only unending blackness.

Her father knelt down before the last statue and placed his candlesticks in front of a brass plaque on a black granite slab under the statute's feet. Arya held her candle up to the statue's head and was horrified to see a stonemason's impression of her own face, eyelessly staring back at her. She swung the candle around towards the neighbouring statue only to see Jon's face carved there. It was like a nightmarish premonition of the future. Shaking, she lowered her candle, to see the plaque on the statue that looked like Jon. The name was _Rickard Stark_ – her grandfather.

Jon and her father were kneeling in front of the statute that looked like her. In the flickering candle light Jon read aloud

"_Lyanna Stark. 18__th__ October 1964 - 24__th__ April 1986. Winter came too soon."_

"She died on the day I was born?" Gasped Jon.

"She was your mother." Ned replied flatly. The flickering candle light made him look old and weary.

"How…how did she die?" Arya stammered.

"She was killed by a wolf." Ned rubbed his hands over his face, visibly upset by the memory. "…but she was almost full term and we managed to save the baby she was carrying – _you Jon_."

"Cut the crap! _Killed by a wolf?! Bullshit!_ Tell me what really happened!" Jon's face was contorted by anger and looked hard and inhuman in the candle light.

Ned turned and sat down heavily, leaning his back against Lyanna's coffin. He rested his forearms on his knees and hung his head. Jon sat down, with his back against the opposite coffin. Arya stood up, shivering, watching them both face each other, in some kind of weary, final confrontation amongst the tombs.

"She was so young and wild and she died so needlessly." Ned paused as if trying to recall a memory he tried to forget. "I brought Robert Baratheon here and the minute he laid eyes on her, he had to have her. I thought it was kind of funny to begin with." He laughed ruefully. "He was obsessed with her. Sent her enough flowers to open a shop, bombarded her with calls and wouldn't leave Winterfell until she agreed to go out with him. She thought it was funny too, to begin with, and used to tease him that she only agreed to go out with him to stop him making the Winterfell florist a millionaire." He smiled to himself at the memory.

"She looked just like you Arya. From the minute you were born and came out yelling, you've always reminded me of her, but God she was impulsive. She used to steal his Porsche; although she called it 'borrowing'. Once she chucked all his clothes out in the street because he didn't turn up when he said he would. When he finally came home, she'd locked him out, so he broke down the door. The police called _me _after _she_ had him arrested for breaking into his own flat." Ned shook his head and smiled wryly as he remembered his wonderful, dead sister.

"If Robert's only obsession had been Lyanna, then things might have turned out alright, because she loved him as much as he loved her, at the beginning anyway. But he was also obsessed with making money and I really don't know which he loved more. I knew he'd stood her up a few times because she'd phone me, demanding to know where he was. The answer was always the same - he was always working – closing some deal or other. He stood her up for the last time at the Live Aid concert – you know – 'Feed the World' and all that?" Jon and Arya nodded to confirm that they did.

"Robert picked the worst possible time and place to leave her on her own – the stupid fuck. I told you she was impulsive – well, she met someone else there and ran off with him. Robert was distraught with fear and regret when he thought something had happened to her, and then livid when he found out that she'd left him. He swore that, if he couldn't have her, no-one would. Of course I couldn't tolerate talk like that and I cut him off then too." Ned paused and closed his eyes. Arya thought he looked just like one of the statutes lining the walls. Eventually he continued, keeping his eyes shut.

"By Christmas it was all over with the other man and she was back here, pregnant and hiding from Robert. God knows how he found out she was back, but within a month he turned up, demanding to see her and when she wouldn't see him, the flowers started again, the calls, a new Porsche for her, and just like before, she eventually gave in and agreed to meet him. I was there and I've never seen a man beg like that before or since. He cried, he pleaded and he knelt at her feet. She told him the baby wasn't his and he swore it didn't matter; he'd love it as much as he loved her and he'd give her and the baby everything if she'd just take him back. But she wouldn't. The next three months, which should have been so happy, waiting on her baby, turned into a nightmare. We all felt we were under siege. He had private investigators follow us all, the tyres of our cars were slashed, business arrangements we'd had for years were terminated without warning, and my suppliers started hearing that I couldn't pay my bills. I couldn't prove anything, but I knew it was my so-called 'friend' who was behind it all.

With hindsight, I think she was still meeting him, secretly, in the Winterfell grounds, behind all of our backs. One morning, she didn't come down for breakfast and we didn't know where she was, until Jory found her, almost dead in the grounds. Jory knew what to do; it was too late for her. He managed to save her child - a boy who looked just like my father. I registered the child as my own. Dear God Jon, if I could have done it any other way I would have, but if Robert had found out that you had survived…" he trailed off, the implication hanging unsaid, but understood between them.

"So how did Lyanna … my mother…actually die?" Jon gulped.

"I told you – attacked by a wolf." Ned stared at Jon defiantly.

"_Fuck that! And Fuck you!_" Jon shouted, lashing out with one of his feet, kicking Ned's leg to the side, making the older man grunt with pain as he jerked to the left, slapping his hand on the ground to save himself from falling.

"We already know about the Werewolves" Arya croaked, the words sticking in her throat as she forced herself to utter them.

Ned swore under his breath as he pushed himself upright again.

"Why the hell should we believe what you say? You've lied to us our whole lives and we've had to find all this out from a stranger!" Jon growled, his deep voice echoing menacingly around the crypt.

"The only reason I've lied is because I've tried to protect you from what has been destroying our family for generations. A curse! Look around you! My two brothers and Lyanna – all dead before they reached thirty! You think that's what I wanted for my children – for Lyanna's son? To bring you up so you could throw your lives away? Now we've got a chance to break this curse. I was the only one left and I made sure I married into a House that has never carried the curse so my children would live! So they would grow old; live to see their grandchildren. So they would _survive_, unlike their uncles and their aunt."

"So Lyanna was a Werewolf?" Arya whispered.

"Yes. And our brothers Brandon and Benjen and my father before them and on and on. All wolves and all dead. I alone renounced the curse and I alone survive.

"You're telling me my mother was a Werewolf?" Jon stuttered in disbelief

"Not just a Werewolf. An Alpha."

"But how do you know it was Robert that killed her?" Arya blurted out. Jon looked shell-shocked.

"Werewolf victims are unmistakable and, God help me, I've seen too many not to know what they look like. It had to be Robert. Back then, the only others were Starks. Lyanna promised me she wouldn't turn anyone, particularly _him,_ but when she came back from France and he wouldn't leave her – leave _us _alone, she admitted she had. He had a temper he couldn't control at the best of times and a Werewolf with no self control is an indiscriminate killing machine and he killed her and so became the Alpha himself. She knew the risks – I warned her and she still did it and she paid with her life in the end.

"But why us?" Jon demanded

"I don't know why we Starks have it in our blood…. we just do… we always have. The sigil – the Werewolf - oh we refer to it as a 'wolf' now, but it's a Werewolf and for hundreds, if not thousands of years, it struck fear into the hearts of our enemies."

"But I'm not a Werewolf…am I father?" Arya implored

"No, Arya, you can't become a Werewolf unless you've been bitten by an Alpha. But, God help me, I suspect you'd turn. Out of all my children, you and Jon have the most Stark in you. I pray that it's missed you - that you have Tully blood, that you don't have the Werewolf curse inside you. I have a book that lists the genealogy of the Starks, their intermarriages with the other ancient Houses of Westeros and the Houses that seem to accept the Werewolf bite and those that don't. Baratheon does, Tully won't. I suppose nowadays you'd call it DNA. So why, oh why, did it have to be you two who got caught up with the Baratheons? I thought they'd never find that boy."

"You mean Gendry?" Arya whispered, her heart thumping so loudly in her chest when she said his name, she was sure her father could hear it.

"Yes him. The years passed and they didn't come for him. I thought he was safe. I couldn't believe it when he got a job at Baratheon's garage. I was certain he would be discovered then, but somehow they never noticed and more years passed and you left for London. Jon and Robb seemed happy here and I thought you were all safe. Then I heard Robert was dying and I prayed that we'd all escaped and that was the end of it. I wouldn't have to worry anymore, wouldn't have to look over my shoulder and then…." He trailed off.

"So you always knew he was Robert's child?" Arya blurted out.

"Yes."

"How did you know?"

Ned snorted "You only have to look at him - he's Robert's spitting image. From the moment he was born he was a bloody, black haired, bawling Baratheon, but his mother raised him well and I hoped he would grow up to be a different type of man than his father. But it seems I was wrong."

Arya didn't want to cause another fight with her father by sticking up for Gendry, so she didn't try and explain anything about his situation, she just needed to know

"How did Robert and Mrs Waters…um… get together?"

"Christ! How many more questions Arya? What is it to you? The boy knows who his father is now doesn't he? He'll want for nothing now. He'll be accepted as a true Baratheon – as if he had been raised at Storm's End all his life - Renly will make sure of that. I'll bet Renly can't believe his luck! Finding a true Baratheon heir and getting rid of that wanker Joffrey and his scheming mother in one stroke! Gendry's gone Arya; you'll never get him away from them now - if that's what you're hoping."

Arya desperately wanted to defend Gendry and scream at her father '_You're wrong! You know nothing about him and I will_!' but she fought the urge as there was still more she had to find out.

"How could Robert be in love with Lyanna, be obsessed with her, but still go and father a child with another woman?" Arya asked

"Because men aren't like women and Werewolves aren't like other men!" Ned snapped. "He did love Lyanna, but he couldn't have her and he found what he…needed elsewhere."

"What he _needed?_ What's that supposed to mean?" Arya demanded angrily. She knew she was pushing her father and that they were on the cusp of another full blown argument, but she couldn't let him fob her off again now.

"_She was raped!_ There – happy now? She didn't know who or, more accurately,_ what_ attacked her but as it happened on the night of the full moon I had my suspicions. Robert had noticed her in the pub before - when he was drowning his sorrows immediately after Lyanna left him. She was young and blonde and attractive, but she wasn't interested in him as everyone in Winterfell knew his history with Lyanna. Well Robert never liked to be denied and, as I have already told you, he couldn't control himself when he was in wolf form.

She wouldn't get rid of the baby when she found out she was pregnant – she said it wasn't the child's fault. She came to me for help. I didn't know for sure it was Robert until I saw the baby. I sure as hell had no doubt then and, as the years passed, he grew into the very image of the Robert I had known at school. So I helped Mrs Waters the best I could."

"Gendry always wondered why his mother never got any money from his father. Robert's rich, so why didn't she sue him for money years ago?" Jon asked

"How should I know?" snarled Ned

"_No more fucking lies Ned_! You knew Robert was his father. Why didn't you tell Mrs Waters to sue his ass off? Instead _you_ gave her a job? Gendry told me you even paid for her funeral and gave him the deposit for his flat! _Why?!"_ Jon demanded

"What would you have had me do Jon? Robert raped her, killed Lyanna – you think I should have phoned him up and said _By the way, there's one of your Bastards living on my land! Give his mother some money or she'll sue your billionaire ass off and, by the way, please don't harm him, or take him away from his mother or bring him up to be a cunt like you!" _Ned roared.

Jon shook his head, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Arya was shocked by her father's language and by his admission that he'd helped Gendry so much. Gendry had never mentioned the funeral or the deposit to her, but then she remembered Renly's envelope – the one Gendry had offered to her Dad when they'd had the fight. She suddenly realised that Gendry had been trying to pay back the debt and that her father had refused it.

Arya hated hearing all of this, although she knew she had to and she hated seeing her father so angry and defensive. Realising she was on the verge of tears; Ned sat up and took her hands in his.

"I know a father shouldn't have favourites amongst his children, but you and Jon…" Ned turned and looked at Jon, his eyes pleading for understanding "have always been special to me, because you both remind me so much of my sister and my father. You are both constant reminders of what I've lost and also how lucky I am to have you."

Jon shifted uncomfortably, trying to force a smile; but it came out as a grimace as he addressed Ned

"You haven't told me who my father really is. Will you tell me now?"

"Oh God Jon, I wish it could have been me. No man could have asked for a better son." Ned seemed to shrink before their eyes, hunching over, pain and regret etched onto his face. "I believed Lyanna when she told Robert the baby wasn't his. It would have been easier to lie to him; she might still have been alive today if she had. She told us both that the father was the man she met and ran off with at the Live Aid concert – _Rhaegar Targaryen_."

Arya heard Jon's sharp intake of breath. She was struggling to take in what she was hearing. She'd seen pictures of Rhaegar the rock star, lead singer of the band Targaryen – who hadn't? But he was Jon's father? And that was Daenerys' name. Oh God! Danni had the same white blonde hair and violet eyes as Rhaegar. Arya was still trying to process this latest information when her father continued

"I never met him, but you know who he is. I don't know if she even told him she was pregnant. As far as I know, there was no contact from the time she returned to Winterfell and she never told me why she left him either. I'm sorry Jon – I wish I knew more."

"Is Rhaegar related to Daenerys?" Arya gasped to Jon.

Jon didn't answer and his head was lowered so that Arya couldn't see his face. She touched his shoulder gently, to make sure he was alright and he jerked, startled by her touch. When he looked up at her, the despair in his eyes was plain to see.

"Yes" was all he could manage to say.

"But Jon doesn't even look like a Targaryen!" Arya shouted at her father. "Rhaegar and Daenerys have got blonde hair and violet eyes!" Arya exclaimed, as if convincing herself that there was no physical resemblance would still make him her brother.

"Jon, you have always looked liked like my father – Rickard." Ned murmured. "Look at yourself Arya. Where's the Tully in you? No, you two are Stark through and through. I couldn't bear it if I lost either of you. I can only plead with you, as your father and a man who has always loved you and who has only ever tried to do right by you, come back to Winterfell. Leave those bloody Baratheons to their power games! Come back here, meet a nice girl..." Ned smiled desperately at Jon before turning back to Arya "…or a nice boy. Make me a granddad. I don't care if they're rich or poor, as long as they love you and keep you safe." Ned pleaded, gazing up at Arya, his face full of hope.

This was what Arya had wanted; her father to welcome her back and tell her he loved her. She was bending down to hug him when his fingers, still holding her hand bumped against her engagement ring. Her father jerked her hand out of the darkness where, even in the flickering candle light, the huge diamond sparkled yellow, orange and red.

"_Blood diamond_" the words sprang into Arya mind again and she jerked her hand away. She was horrified that she could have been so stupid. Why hadn't she taken it off in the car? Slipped it into her pocket for a few hours and then he would never have known. But it was too late now – her father had already seen it.

"You stupid little girl! You're going to ruin your life for that Bloody Baratheon Bastard?! My God! I can't believe it's happening all over again. I won't lose you the same way I lost Lyanna!"

Arya tried to jerk her hand free of her father's grasp, but his grip was like iron.

"Promise me you'll not see him again Arya! After all I've told you, you must understand he's no good for you? Stay here with me and your brothers and sisters. Tell me you will." Her father was on his knees, begging her to stay. She wanted to hug him, be his little girl again, safe and protected by her Daddy, but she'd already made a promise to Gendry and, he in turn, had made a promise to her. He had promised he wouldn't join the Baratheon wolf pack and that they wouldn't go back to Storm's End. As much as she wanted to stay, she knew her future was not at Winterfell, it was with Gendry.

"I can't Dad. I don't want to hurt you, but I need to go. It's going to be ok with me and Gendry. It will! You'll see – we're not Robert and Lyanna."

"Then you're a fool. It's never going to be ok with him. The Baratheons need him. They'll never let him go now and if you choose him you'll end up the same way Lyanna did!"

Arya was trying to back away, but her father wouldn't let go of her hand. His grip tightened.

"Dad, let me go, you're hurting me!" she yelled, panicking

"You need to let us go." Jon was up and standing behind Ned, resting his hand on Lord Stark's shoulder.

"After all I've said? You too Jon?" Ned asked despairingly

"There's nothing for me here and you can't live our lives for us." Jon answered quietly.

Ned reluctantly let go of Arya's hand, hanging his head and admitting defeat in his attempt to make them both stay.

Their candles were beginning to gutter and flicker.

"If you go to him…to them, then you're turning your back on everything I've worked for since you were both born. I can't make you stay, but I can tell you I won't take you back. I'm not having that curse tainting Winterfell and my family again. I love you both, but I have a wife and four other children to consider and, God be good, grandchildren someday. If you leave now – you're on your own."

"Are you sure Arya?" Jon asked softly.

Arya nodded, wiping tears away from her eyes. She _had_ to get back to Gendry. She'd made her choice when she walked out of Winterfell with him before and again when she accepted his ring.

Jon picked up two of the candlesticks.

"One last thing Ned. Who was the wolf Rob and I found in the snow?"

"Benjen; my young brother Benjen. The last of the Stark wolves, hunted down and slain by the Lannisters." Ned said wearily. "Are you going to ask me about them too?"

"No. I think we've heard enough. Are you coming Ned?"

"No, I'll stay with my family a while longer." Ned replied, his voice flat. He slumped against Lyanna's tomb and stared down into the darkness.

Jon led the way and Arya took a few steps after him before turning back and looking at her father, sitting alone in a flickering pool of candle light.

"I love you Dad", she sobbed, before turning away and running to catch up with Jon, tears streaming down her cheeks.

-0-

The journey back to The Dorchester dragged. The traffic was awful and neither Arya nor Jon felt like talking. Even Brienne eventually gave up trying to make conversation.

Arya was contemplating her decision to turn her back on her father and her future with Gendry, while Jon was contemplating his lack of future with Danni. He hadn't wanted to believe Renly's speculation about Rhaegar Targaryen being his father, principally because it meant that Danni was his aunt. She was, without a doubt, the best thing to have happened to him in years. Just when he'd thought his life was finally changing for the better, a future with her had been snatched away from him, before it had really begun. There could be no question of a relationship with her now; not now Ned had confirmed his worst fears. He was alone again, only now he felt even more isolated than before. He wasn't a Stark; he couldn't call himself a Targaryen. He felt like a nobody and he wasn't in the mood to discuss what had happened that afternoon, even with Arya.

It was seven o'clock by the time they got back to The Dorchester. As soon as they walked into the foyer, Arya ran over to the reception desk.

"Is Gendry Baratheon back yet?" she enquired anxiously.

The pretty receptionist shook her head, without even having to check her computer screen.

"No Miss Stark. None of the Baratheon party has returned."

Arya turned to Jon and Brienne, eyes wide with panic

"Something's wrong! He should have been back by now!" she cried.

"Calm down Arya, it's probably just the traffic and anyway, there's plenty of time." Brienne assured her. "I'll contact Loras and find out where they are."

Brienne strode off a few paces and spoke into a communication device she had concealed in the sleeve of her, ill fitting, suit jacket. She had a hurried conversation with someone on the other end and then returned, looking concerned herself.

"There's been a problem at the hospital. That piece of shit Littlefinger didn't turn up when he was supposed to. Renly insisted the meeting couldn't proceed until he arrived. That little shit had confirmed he would be there. Damn him. Eventually Loras had to go and find him and when he did, Littlefinger claimed there'd been a mix up with his diary. That delayed everything and they're all still in with Lord Baratheon now."

"We need to go to the hospital! This wasn't supposed to happen! And I've got a really, really bad feeling about this." Arya said anxiously.

"Panicking isn't going to help Arya. There's still two hours left before sunset and Gendry knows what he's doing. You know he'll be here as soon as he can." Jon sighed. "But let's go to the hospital anyway." he conceded as Arya didn't look like she was prepared to simply wait in the hotel until Gendry turned up.

So the three of them set off again, this time for Maester's Hospital. Having fought their way through the rush hour traffic to get to the hotel in central London, they had to get across London again, heading in the opposite direction. Every road they took and every shortcut they tried was gridlocked with traffic. Arya insisted that Brienne check in with the security team at the hospital every fifteen minutes. The news was always the same – they were all still in the meeting. Arya cursed the traffic repeatedly and once cursed Renly, but that provoked a swift rebuke from Brienne.

When they were close to the hospital, with only forty minutes to go until sunset, the news finally came through that the meeting was over. Arya started shaking with relief.

"What do you want to do now?" Jon asked, adding "I vote we just go back to the hotel. I could really use a drink and an early night."

"No. We're so close now, let's carry on and maybe Gendry can come back with us." Arya decided.

"Fine." Jon moaned, making it clear he thought Arya's decision was anything but.

A fleet of black Range Rovers, with blacked out windows, complete with two police motorcycle outriders were parked at the entrance to the hospital. The policemen were sitting astride their bikes, and several Baratheon security men hovered around the cars. It looked as if the convoy was getting ready to leave. Brienne double parked the Aston Martin. As she got out, she threw the keys to another suited and booted bodyguard, telling him to park it and warning him it was Gendry's so he'd better take good care of it.

Arya knew they way and led them up to the floor where Lord Robert was being treated. Baratheon security guards were stationed in pairs at the entrance to the hospital and at the doors to the lifts on every floor. Brienne greeted them all by their first names as they passed. Arya had never seen such a high security presence anywhere before. Whatever had been happening, it was clear Loras wasn't taking any chances with the security.

Arya ran towards the hospital room she knew Gendry was in, only to find the way blocked by two huge security men. Another two were guarding the door to Lord Baratheon, further along the corridor.

"Sorry Miss Stark. No one is to enter." The older, larger one told her firmly.

Arya turned back, looking for Brienne. She had no doubt Brienne would be able to get her in to see Gendry.

Brienne and Jon weren't far behind, walking briskly, whereas Arya had run from the lift.

"Evening Bryce, Emmon." Brienne nodded to her colleagues. "Lady Stark wants to see her fiancé."

Brienne tried to walk between the two men. The older one put his hand firmly on her shoulder and pushed her back.

"Loras's orders. No-one and I mean _no-one_ is to get into that room until Loras comes out."

"Oh, come on! I spoke to Loras earlier. He knows we're coming." Brienne explained.

"I know. He specifically told us Lady Stark had to remain in the waiting room until they were finished." Bryce declared coldly.

"Well, let _me_ through then." Brienne took another step forward. This time both men simultaneously reached inside their suit jackets, hands resting on what Arya presumed were guns.

"No exceptions Brienne." Bryce snarled. "Don't make me shoot you, as you know I will. Only in the leg though, because we're both on the same team - aren't we?" he sneered.

"Come on Arya, we'll need to wait" Brienne conceded reluctantly, giving her fellow members of the Rainbow Guard a venomous look.

The three of them retreated to the waiting room – the same one Arya and Gendry had been in before.

"I'm sorry Arya, I could have taken Bryce and Emmon, but not the other two at the door before they got us. Loras has got this sewn up tight." Brienne apologized.

Arya nervously checked her watch.

"Shit! There's only ten minutes until sunset!"

**To be continued…and it's Big G next…**


	13. Chapter 13 FULL MOON part 3 - Gendry

**Ok, were getting there. I've written the whole Full Moon thing, but it's 8,000 plus words, which I think is too long for one post. So I've had to split it (again). Hopefully it's going to be worth waiting for. Like winter, the Werewolves are coming...**

CHAPTER 13

FULL MOON part 3 – GENDRY

Immediately his alarm rang, Gendry rolled out of bed. He knew he had to get up straight away. He didn't want to put the alarm on snooze in case it woke Arya. She didn't have to get up for a few hours yet, as Danni's flight wasn't until later. In any event, he hadn't left himself much time to get ready to meet Renly - '8am Sharp' he'd been told repeatedly.

The sight that greeted him in the bathroom mirror confirmed that he'd had a good night last night. Shit! It wasn't just a good night. It had been a _great_ night. He whistled happily to himself as he took a piss and then a shower. Things were going great with Arya – they just clicked now. They had so much in common, so many shared memories of their childhood, his best mate was her brother and they'd got over the couple of 'misunderstandings' at the beginning. On top of all that, the icing on his cake, was that sex with her was definitely the best of his life.

She was everything he'd ever wanted and last night had proved she was obviously up for anything too. Life was good. Shit! It wasn't just good it was _great_. The girl of his dreams was wearing his ring, he'd got a fucking Aston Martin, more money than he knew what to do with and great friends. He'd never seen Jon as happy as he'd been last night. Jon could be a dour bastard sometimes, but last night he'd been buzzing. Yes, Danni certainly brought out the best in him. He chuckled to himself when he remembered they way the night had ended. Who would have seen that coming? Little virgin Arya getting it on like a wildcat with Jon's French tart. That had to be one of the hottest things he'd ever seen and the fact that Arya had asked his permission first, made him love her even more.

And then he remembered Jon's balls.

"Oh Fuuuuuuuuuck." He groaned. Why the fuck had he felt the need to grope Jon's balls? Hopefully Jon thought it was Danni. Gendry looked down at his hand and mentally compared his thick, calloused fingers with Danni's small, soft ones. Not much chance of that. Maybe they'd just never mention it. He certainly wasn't _ever_ going to bring the fucking think up and maybe he could just pretend he didn't remember if Jon ever said anything about it. Fuck! It had been a good night though, apart from that. A _great _night.

He was looking forward to getting Arya on her own tonight. They hadn't had as much time together over the past few days as he'd hoped, but after they got today over with, he planned to spend the rest of the week in bed with her. Maybe they could do what Jon and Danni had done – not leave their hotel room for two days. Now that was a great idea!

As he dried himself, he caught sight of his ribs in the mirror. They looked worse than ever, the bruising had turned to deep purple, almost black, with spotted areas of a livid, sickly yellow. He knew he could do with a few days doing nothing. Renly had him running around like a blue arsed fly for the past two days and, by all accounts, today would be even worse.

Today was _The Big Day _as he'd been told repeatedly. Renly had been preparing him for _The Big Day_ since they had arrived in London. There had been the trip to Saville Row to be measured for the suit, which had taken fucking hours, a goddamn shoe fitting, and endless power point presentations about Baratheon Enterprises. The one about the Board of Directors had been particularly awful. He'd even dreamt about Renly, Varys, Petyr Baelish, Pycelle, his Uncle Stannis (who looked like a grim, boring, old fashioned Baratheon from one of those Storm's End paintings) and his bloody Father that night. They'd all been chasing him around a huge board room table. He'd kept tripping and falling and panicking they were all going to set upon him, but they never seemed to. Instead the dream rewound and they were all running around the table again, and he'd stumble again and was convinced they were going to catch him this time, until they all started running again, and again and again. What a bloody nightmare that had been.

And today he was going to have the dubious pleasure of experiencing it all for real. The bloody power points had been bad enough. Gendry suspected already that he wasn't cut out for this boardroom shit. While Renly seemed to find the characters and the machinations of Big Business endlessness fascinating, Gendry found it tediously pointless. Who cared if Uncle Stannis never turned up to any Board meetings? Gendry cared even less why. The reasons seemed to be so convoluted, rooted in perceived snubs and slights and Baratheon stubbornness, perpetuated over decades. Gendry had come to the conclusion that physically knocking all of their bloody, bull heads together was the only thing that had any hope of ever ending the bickering.

Sure enough, his hotel room door was knocked at exactly 8 am and there was Renly, looking immaculate as ever and eager to get going.

"For God's sake Gendry! You look like shit! You know how important this meeting is today. Bloody Hell! What were you doing last night?" Renly asked angrily.

"Good morning to you too." Gendry muttered bad temperedly.

"Your breath stinks. Have you even had any breakfast?" Renly demanded as they walked down the corridor. Two of Renly's most trusted body guards - Bryce Caron and Emmon Cuy were waiting for them at the doors to the lift. Gendry grunted a greeting to them both before answering Renly's question.

"Not yet. I thought I'd grab something to eat later."

"We'll not have time _later_." Renly snarled. "Bryce, call the kitchen now and tell them I need a full English, black coffee and a soya latte ready as soon as possible."

Bryce called the order in through the communication system all the bodyguards wore; an earpiece that fitted inside one ear and a microphone strapped to their wrist. Renly didn't speak again until the two of them were sitting in the dining room.

"I'm really disappointed Gendry. I'm not going to lie." Renly said sharply. "It's not only your future riding on this meeting today, it's mine too. I've really put my neck on the line for you and you can't even trust you to stay sober for one fucking night!"

"I've not had a drink in ages. And anyway I keep telling you – I'll be fine."

"Really? What about your performance at Storm's End on Sunday? I seem to recall that was fuelled by my best whisky." Renly reminded him.

"Err, right. I forgot about that." Gendry conceded.

The coffees arrived. Gendry hated black coffee, but wasn't going to point that out to Renly just now. Gendry blew on his coffee, trying to cool it down to a temperature that would make it at least drinkable while Renly sipped his Soya latte. That at least gave him a few minutes respite, before Renly continued

"And you didn't even have the decency to shave."

"I shaved last night instead. It's not that bad." Gendry offered, running his hand over his, fairly smooth, jaw.

"But what are you going to look like by five o'clock tonight? I keep telling you, people's perception of you today is _everything_. We need to present this as a smooth transition, a _fait accompli._ Ladies and Gentlemen, members of the Board...here is Gendry Baratheon! Lord Baratheon's heir, a man you can trust, a man to lead the company into the future, not a _cheap fucking imitation of his father!"_ Renly spat.

That hurt. Renly knew comparing his nephew to Lord Robert was what would sting most and to be called a _cheap imitation_! That was a low blow, but Gendry couldn't think of an appropriate reply. All he could think of was either 'Fuck you Renly' - which would only make things worse, or 'Sorry Renly' - which would stick in his throat.

Worst thing was; he knew Renly was right. He shouldn't have partied so hard the night before, but who knew Danni would have some top notch joints or that the girls would put on such a show. He knew he'd let himself get carried away and, in the process, let Renly down. It looked like Renly was going to make him pay by going on and on about it. At least when he'd pissed Tobho Mott off, the old git would shout and swear at him, but that would be it – over and forgotten. Unfortunately Renly didn't work the same way as Tobho, Renly's style was emotional blackmail, and lots of it.

Mercifully, Gendry's breakfast arrived, giving him an excuse not to have to talk to his uncle. Gendry ate the eggs, bacon, sausage, mushrooms, beans and tomato as fast as he could, while trying to maintain some table manners. Renly ordered another two coffees 'to go' and this time Gendry managed to ask for a white coffee, through a mouthful of breakfast. Renly rolled his eyes and grimaced with disgust.

"So, I take it from the state you're in that Jon wasn't the only one enjoying himself last night?"

Gendry grunted his agreement.

"That was an expensive 'bootie call' - private jets to France and back. I can see that you know how to spend money. Let's find out if you're as good at making it! Let's go." Renly ordered and was up and heading out of the restaurant before Gendry had even had time to put down his knife and fork.

By 8.30 they were in the middle of a convoy of three Range Rovers, all with blacked out windows, heading to Saville Row. Renly took the opportunity to get another dig in at Gendry, telling him that Oliver, his tailor, had agreed to open his shop early for them and now they were going to be late. Sure enough, the tailor and his staff were waiting for them when they arrived.

Half a dozen suits and shirts of various colours and materials were waiting for him in the changing room. The black suit looked too much like Loras's, so he tried on a crisp white shirt and a navy suit with a narrow pinstripe. He was rather surprised to see it had a lilac silk lining, but he supposed, as this was Renly's tailor, there was inevitably going to be a bit of flamboyance in the design.

The meticulous measurements the tailor had taken two days before had obviously been worth while. The suit fitted perfectly. He had never worn anything like it and he shuddered when he remembered his one, cheap suit that he'd bought in Westeros for his mother's funeral. It had been the only one that the shop had that had been long enough for him. He cringed when he remembered how he hadn't even been able to get the jacket on when he'd tried to wear it to Robb's pre-wedding dinner. In stark contrast, the material of this suit was soft and fine and draped perfectly. He turned, admiring himself in the mirror. He stood a bit straighter and felt like a million dollars. He wondered what Arya would think. He thought she'd approve.

He strode out of the changing room, half expecting a round of applause from the waiting staff. Instead Oliver 'tutted' and Renly shook his head.

"Put some shoes on and we'll be able to see where it needs adjusted." Renly told him. There were four, expensive looking shoe boxes sitting beside a bench upholstered in ox blood coloured leather. He sat down and opened the first box. He picked up a handsome brown brogue and started loosening the thin leather laces.

"Christ Gendry! Not brown brogues with a navy pinstripe!" Renly exclaimed.

Gendry sighed dramatically and put the shoe back in the box. The next box contained a pair of black, incredibly shiny, slightly pointed, formal shoes, just like Renly wore. As he'd seen Renly in a blue suit and black shoes, he decided to go for it. There was no cursing from Renly this time, so he assumed they were acceptable.

If the suit fitted perfectly, the shoes were even better. He would have said 'fitted like a glove', but could shoes even fit like a glove? It was like being barefoot only better. He knew as soon as he stood up in his bespoke shoes that it would be hard to go back to wearing ordinary shoes from an ordinary shop.

He stood admiring himself in the full length mirror. Oliver, with more tutting, immediately started pulling at his cuffs, adjusting the waistband of the trousers and fastening his jacket. Gendry had never had anyone prod and pull at him like this before. The annoying little man was buzzing around him like a fly and it took a great deal of effort to stop himself from swatting Oliver away.

"Renly, you know I hate to be rushed and look at this!" the tailor pulled the material at the knee of his trousers "His legs are too big! I need another day _at least_ for the adjustments."

Gendry rolled his eyes and flexed his thigh muscles in order to annoy the tailor even more. He didn't know what they were complaining about - the suit looked perfect to him, but obviously he knew nothing as Renly and Oliver decided that the other five suits would be adjusted and delivered to Storm's End in due course. More measurements were taken and the tailor reluctantly agreed that Gendry would just _have_ to wear the navy pinstripe today.

Next came the tie. Renly immediately said "Pink! It's got to be pink with navy!"

Almost as quickly, Gendry replied "No way. Anything but pink."

They settled on a plain red one, that Renly kept calling 'salmon pink' – much to Gendry's annoyance. Renly picked out another half dozen ties, seemingly at random, and handed them to an assistant to be delivered to Storm's End with the suits, shoes and the casual clothes Gendry had worn earlier, clothes which had now been unceremoniously dumped in a plastic carrier bag.

Within the hour they were back in the Range Rover and headed to Canary Wharf, one of London's two main financial districts, where Baratheon Enterprises had their headquarters. In the car Renly took the opportunity to go over their itinerary _again_. This was to be Gendry's 'meet and greet' with the employees.

Two days ago, Renly had warned him that his Father wasn't going to live much longer. Time was running out. Lord Baratheon's medical team had not anticipated such a rapid deterioration in their patient's health. In their considered opinion, Robert was no longer fit enough to undergo the stem cell transplant they had previously hoped to try. Gendry had mixed feelings about this news. He couldn't find it in his heart to care whether his Father lived or died, but he was relieved the decision about the stem cell donation had been taken out of his hands.

After Renly had suggested Robert had raped his mother, Gendry had immediately decided that his Father could rot in hell before he would donate anything that might help save his life. But Jon had pointed out that they didn't definitely know what had happened and that Robert deserved the benefit of the doubt - innocent until proven guilty, and all that. So Gendry needed to talk to his father. The thought didn't appeal. Arya told him that he had an opportunity to get some 'closure' – an opportunity he didn't have two weeks previously when he faced a lifetime of never even knowing who The Bastard was. Gendry didn't think he cared about 'closure', but if Arya said he should do it, then he would.

So, with the Chairman of the Board at death's door, Renly had decided that urgent action was needed. In order for his beloved Baratheon Enterprises, to continue to thrive, to avoid any stock market uncertainty, the possibility of a Board Room fight or of a Power Vacuum being created by Robert's death, Gendry must be introduced as the 'Heir Apparent' as soon as possible. To Renly 'as soon as possible' appeared to mean - as soon as Gendry had a decent suit to wear. Renly was obsessed with image and the perception of the Baratheon brand. He seemed to have little or no interest in what Gendry could, or would actually do once installed as the new figure head.

So, they rolled up to Canary Wharf, to find a reception committee standing outside the steel and glass building waiting to welcome them. Gendry could see that there were already Security guards positioned around the periphery of the waiting group and more joined them from the lead and third Range Rovers. Only once Renly received a nod of approval from Parmen Crane, who was in charge of their security in Loras's absence, did Renly leave the vehicle.

The assembled crowed clapped politely as first Renly, then Gendry stepped out of the Range Rover. Gendry could see the surprise on the reception committee's faces when they saw him. He knew they would be saying the same as everyone else did – 'doesn't he look just like his father'. He sighed; this was going to be a long day. He fixed what he hoped was his most charming smile to his face, and followed Renly as he strode towards the waiting group.

Four hours later they were back in the Ranger Rover. Four hours spent shaking hands, four hours of repeating the same old shit about how delighted he was to be taking his Father's place on the Board of Directors, four hours of grey rooms, grey people and Renly's running commentary. The final trial had been a finger buffet, of the smallest bits of food Gendry had ever had the misfortune to come across, arranged in the Board Room for the Heads of Departments. He'd had to stand and make small talk with people who knew more about Baratheon Enterprises than he ever would and his brain hurt from trying not to sound like an idiot – which is exactly what he felt he was.

However, Renly seemed delighted with the way it had all gone and was babbling enthusiastically about getting Gendry a corner office on the top floor, just along the corridor from his own and of how the two of them would start kicking butt in Board Rooms across London, just like he and Robert used to in the good old days. Gendry couldn't think of anything worse, but he knew he had to bide his time, play along with Renly just now until his position was secure enough to do things they way _he_ wanted to. So he did some more smiling at Renly and made some more encouraging noises at appropriate times during Renly's excited monologue.

And the day was only half over. The worst was yet to come – the showdown with The Board and the confrontation with his Father.

The Extraordinary Board Meeting was to be held in Robert's hospital room as Lord Baratheon was too ill to travel. Renly had been planning this in minute detail to ensure that there was no possibility that Gendry's succession could be challenged by anyone – and by the Lannisters in particular. They were the ones who had everything to loose from Gendry's sudden appearance. Renly, acting as Robert's Attorney, had already initiated divorce proceedings against Cersi. While it was uncertain whether Robert would live to see the Decree of Divorce granted, the evidence against Cersi couldn't have been more damning; three children born during the course of the marriage as a result of an incestuous relationship with her brother.

Loras was waiting for them outside Maester's Hospital. Loras confirmed all the arrangements were in place and that the Board Members had begun to arrive. Baratheon security guards were everywhere and every one stood to attention as they walked past on their way to Lord Baratheon's hospital room.

When they arrived, Renly knocked on the door but didn't wait for a reply before entering. Loras and Gendry followed closely behind. A doctor and a nurse were sitting by Lord Robert's bed. The nurse was holding her patient's skeletal hand. The doctor stood up, rubbing his hands together in an agitated manner.

"Are you ready Doctor Pylos?" Renly enquired.

"Yes, I've got the stimulant here, but I'm not entirely happy about this." The Doctor replied nervously. Renly sighed.

"I'm not happy about it either, but you know we _have _to do this – it's what my brother would want." Renly clasped the Doctor's shoulder reassuringly and continued "We know Robert's time with us is limited and, whether he has a week or a month left, is neither here nor there. We must respect his wishes."

They all looked at the old man lying on the bed. Gendry had thought his Father had looked bloody awful the last time he'd seen him, but there had been a marked deterioration since then. Although he'd been shaved and dressed in a long sleeved casual shirt, which hid his withered arms, sunken chest and most of the lines sticking in and out his body, Lord Baratheon had lost even more weight. His sickly yellow skin hung off his cheek bones and neck like the skin of a plucked turkey. His eyes were shut and sunken into brown hollows in his skull like face. The black hair was plastered to his head and his breathing was punctuated by a wet gurgling sound, as if his lungs were slowly filling with water.

"Robert's priority has always been the good of his company – that was the thing he loved most in his life and his dearest wish would have been to see it left in safe hands for the sake of his loyal employees and shareholders."

Gendry wondered if everyone else had noticed that Renly was already referring to Robert in the past tense. He also though all this talk about Robert's "dearest wish" was just bullshit for the Doctor's benefit. Securing the succession and the future of the company was Renly's dearest wish and obviously why they were all here and why the Doctor was being asked to do whatever it was that he wasn't happy about.

"How long does the stimulant take to work and how long will it be effective for?"

"Oh, it's almost immediate and you'll get a good hour out of him, maybe more, but you know I think the stress this will place on his body may hasten his demise."

"I understand your concerns Doctor, but I know it's what my brother would have wanted. Will you proceed please?"

The Doctor didn't look as if Renly's speech had reassured him any, but nevertheless, he walked around the bed to stand beside the nurse and asked her to roll up Robert's shirt sleeve. The nurse complied, revealing an intravenous cannula taped onto Robert's bony forearm. There was so little flesh left on his bones that the end of the needle could be seen pushing up from under the skin further up his arm. Gendry wanted to look away, but was transfixed by an awful need to see what happened next.

The doctor lifted a pre-prepared syringe and injected it into the cannula, gritting his teeth as he did so. Almost immediately the patient began to groan and Lord Baratheon began rolling his head slowly from side to side. As the groaning became louder, the wet wheezing also increased. Gendry though he could easily be sick, so great was his revulsion for the man and the state he was in.

Robert's eyes began to open. Renly leant in closer,

"It's me Robert. Wake up – we need you. We've got business to attend to. _Baratheon Enterprises needs you_."

It was as if hearing the name of his beloved company was the anchor Robert needed to pull him fully back into consciousness. His eyes snapped open. He stared at his brother with wild, bloodshot eyes and gurgled

"Renly! Get me a drink!"

Loras snorted and Renly laughed.

"Of course Robert, but it's got to be water, you're still in hospital."

"I know that you bloody fool! Just get me a drink of water!" the old man rasped.

The nurse lifted a glass to his lips and helped him take a few sips.

"Thank you, I think you can leave us now." Renly addressed the Doctor and the nurse.

"One hour Renly, then he needs to rest." Doctor Pylos warned. Renly nodded and smiled graciously as the two medical staff left them alone. As soon as Renly, Loras and Gendry were left alone with Lord Baratheon, Renly's tone changed.

"Listen to me Robert, we don't have long. I've convened an Extraordinary Board meeting, here – now. I need you to be the Chairman of the Board one last time. They're all going to be here, Varys, Petyr, Pycell… all of them. I've got two Consultant Psychiatrists waiting outside. I need them to certify that you are of sound mind before we change your will and appoint Gendry as your successor in front of the Board."

"Gendry?" Lord Baratheon whispered. Renly took a step back and shoved Gendry into his Father's line of vision.

"Hello _Father. _Great to see you again!" Gendry lied

"Where's that Lyanna of yours?" Robert rasped, trying to lift his head off the pile of pillows to look for her.

"She's not here. This is business _Father_." Gendry cajoled.

"Don't you let her out of your sight – you hear me!" Robert was trying to poke his finger at Gendry and shout, to emphasise his instruction, but the words only came out as a hoarse whisper and the finger wobbled unsteadily in mid air.

"Do you remember everything we discussed Robert?" Renly asked

"Of course I do, I'm dying - I'm not an idiot!" Robert hissed

"Are you ready for the Psychiatrists while I get The Board together?"

"Bring them on - all of the Bastards" Lord Baratheon rasped.

Even Gendry reluctantly admired his spirit – a cantankerous old fucker to the end.

While the Psychiatrists took turns to conduct their interviews, Renly discovered there was a problem - a huge problem. He had gone to the waiting room to tell the assembled Board Members that Lord Baratheon was almost ready for them, only to find that every Director had arrived, except Stannis Baratheon (who nobody ever expected anyway) and Petyr Baelish, the Lawyer who represented the Lannister's shareholding and interests in the company. Renly was incandescent with rage.

"That greasy little snake! I spoke to him yesterday and he assured me he would be here! He knows that this fucking show is for his benefit above all others. We can't proceed until he's here!" Renly ranted to Gendry and Loras.

Even the normally unflappable Loras was seething with anger. Gendry watched the two of them phone every number they had for the Lawyer. Renly phoned his work mobile number and then his private mobile – both unanswered. Loras phoned his Law Practice – Littlefingers – but they could only confirm he was out of the office at an appointment. He hadn't told them where. Loras even phoned the Lannister's office, and asked for Mr Baelish, but drew another blank.

"We need him!" Renly ranted. "Without him here to witness this, I know they'll try and challenge the will and have Gendry's appointment to The Board revoked! They'll try every trick in the book and more that we haven't even thought of yet! Goddamn him and Goddamn the Lannisters all to hell!"

Gendry and Loras exchanged worried glances. The Full Moon was only a few hours away and Renly was so aggravated that his eyes were turning form blue to orange and back and the low, animal growl of the wolf was breaking through his usual, cultured voice.

"I know where he'll be!" Loras snarled. "I'll be back within an hour and if I'm not, it's only because I've killed the little fucker!"

"Can I come too?" Gendry asked, eager to be away from the stinking hospital room for as long as possible.

"Why the fuck not?" Loras snorted, "Where we're going is the last place the Lannisters would expect you to be…"


	14. Chapter 14- FULL MOON 4 - Lord Baratheon

**Chapter 14 **

**Full Moon part 4 – Lord Baratheon**

Twenty minutes after leaving the Hospital, Loras and Gendry were in Soho, outside a seedy, back street massage parlour called 'The Veil'.

"Massage parlour my arse!" Loras had exclaimed as they'd screeched to a halt. "It's a Brothel - owned by Littlefinger and I'll bet the whores here call him Little_dick._"

As the two of them walked in, they were confronted by a fat, middle aged, half naked woman sitting behind a tatty reception desk. She had dyed scarlet hair, messily piled up on top of her head and she was wearing a, several sizes too small, pink rubber basque. Lumpy breasts spilled out over the baby pink rubber. She took the fag out of her mouth and gave them a sly grin.

"Well, what have we here?" the old whore wondered. "Not our usual clientele. You two don't look like you have to pay for it! We don't often get clean ones like you in here. I might even give you a freebie meself Blondie!" she cackled, lecherously eyeing Loras up and down.

"I don't think _you_ have what I'm looking for." Loras drawled sarcastically

"Oh, I don't know about that Mister" the woman wiggled her lower jaw and then spat a pair of false teeth into the palm of her hand. "Ever had a toothless blow job son? I could do you a velveteen rub on that big, hard cock of yours and I won't charge you much neither."

Gendry had to stifle a fit of the giggles as, for once, Loras was lost for words.

Gendry decided to help him out.

"Thanks for your kind offer Madame, but we're in a bit of a rush. I'm sure '_Blondie_' here would love to take you up on that offer another time, but right now we're looking for our friend Petyr Baelish."

"Never heard of him!" the woman snapped hurriedly, while her eyes flicked down the corridor and then back to Gendry.

Loras drew a money clip, stuffed with folded red notes, from his pocket

"Oh don't be like that _Velveteen_" he purred "I'm quite happy to pay you for your information. Tell me where he is and I'll not say who told me."

Loras peeled three, hundred pound notes from his clip and dropped them carelessly on the desk in front of her. A podgy hand, adorned with several gold rings on each finger, grabbed the notes and stuffed them down her very ample cleavage.

"Room 69 and don't tell him it was me what told you" the old whore hissed.

Loras was striding down the corridor before she had even finished talking. Gendry hurried to follow. Loras didn't intent to give his victim any warning of their arrival. As soon as he reached room 69, he kicked the door in with one almighty blow. Their target was sitting, studying a sheaf of papers. His suit trousers and boxer shorts were gathered around his ankles, while a black haired girl knelt between his knees, her head bobbing up and down in front of his crotch.

"Shit!" The Lawyer yelled as the door exploded. He tried to jump up, dropping and scattering his papers everywhere. The girl obviously got as much of a fright as Petyr and must have bitten his cock as Petyr screamed and, clutching his assaulted member, aimed a kick at the girl kneeling on the floor. Fortunately he was off balance and the kick only caught her with a glancing blow.

Loras was upon him in an instant, dragging him backwards by the collar of his shirt. Petyr tried to hold onto his dick and his trousers as Loras manhandled him out the door.

Gendry ran over to the girl to see if she was all right. She was young, stunningly beautiful and not at all what he had expected. He helped her to her feet and tried to stop her silk negligee falling off her shoulders and exposing more of her breasts.

"I'll be ok" she muttered "His foot didn't really make contact. Thanks anyway."

She looked up at him with huge, blue eyes.

Gendry wanted to ask her what the hell she was doing in a place like this, but it was obvious, wasn't it? So he just told her to take care of herself and made for the door, or rather the hole where the door used to be. But his conscience got the better of him and he turned and threw her the money clip Renly had given him earlier. He had no idea how many folded hundred pounds it contained.

"You could do better than him. Go ring someone else's bell." he suggested, before running after Loras.

On the way back to the hospital The Lawyer had protested his innocence, blamed a diary mix up and swore he had always intended to be at The Board Meeting. Loras simply blanked him. Eventually, realising his protests were falling on deaf ears, Petyr turned his attention to Gendry.

"So you're the prodigal son?"

Gendry had taken an instant dislike to the odious little man. Running a brothel was bad enough, but kicking a woman was worse then anything Gendry had ever had the misfortune to witness before. Gendry understood why Loras preferred to stare out of the window rather than have to engage in conversation with this little shit.

"Yeah, that's me." He drawled, hoping his tone was conveying the contempt he felt.

"I hope Renly's told you what you're letting yourself in for _son_. The Lannisters aren't going to take this lying down you know."

Finally Loras spoke.

"The Lannisters can go fuck themselves" he snarled.

Petyr laughed shrilly.

"Oh, I think we all know now that they fuck _each other."_ He smirked. "And that gives you double the headache, as neither Cersei nor Jaime are going to want to see their precious, incestuous, offspring denied what they have plotted to attain for so long. Imagine those decades of sacrifice - of poor Cersi being married to that drunkard Robert Baratheon! Finally she thinks the old cunt is going to die but then to have her children's birthright snatched away from them at the last moment! Left with nothing to show for those decades of sacrifice! No, I don't believe the Lannisters are going to be very happy about this at all." He smirked

"_Their_ birthright! I think you've got your facts wrong Littlefinger." Gendry scoffed.

"You think? Oh, no-one can deny you are the spitting image of your father _Mr Waters,_ but those children were born into a marriage recognised by Law and you are a mere _bastard _– that's the technical term I think!"

"Go fuck yourself!" Gendry snarled and followed Loras's lead by looking out of the window rather than at the smug little shit. But The Lawyer had to have the last word,

"I think I should point out that I _was _trying to get fucked,albeit not by myself, when you two interrupted me." Petyr smirked.

The rest of the journey was completed in silence.

Back at Maester's Hospital, Loras marched Petyr through the corridors with a vice like grip on his upper arm. Petyr was at least six inches shorter than Loras and Gendry would have guessed about half his weight. Loras seemed to be trying to humiliate the little Lawyer further, by forcing him to run to keep up.

Once they reached the waiting room, where the other Board members had been kept waiting for over an hour, Loras opened the door and, without even looking into the room, shoved Petyr in and quickly slammed the door behind him. Loras barked a warning to his security guards standing in the corridor that if any of them let one person out of that room, he'd have their balls.

Gendry imagined that Loras would be true to his word.

"He can bleat all he likes to the other two in there. Right – let's find Renly and get this show on the road!" Loras exclaimed.

Gendry followed Loras to Robert's room. To his surprise, Gendry had quite enjoyed their little road trip. As Loras had been too intent upon retrieving Petyr to indulge in his usual bickering with Gendry, the younger man had been able to quietly observe the Head of Baratheon Security doing what he did best – kicking arse.

Gendry was beginning to develop a grudging respect for Loras. He could now appreciate why Renly relied on him so much. Gendry wondered if he and Jon would work together like Loras and Renly someday – although obviously not with the gay stuff. That made him remember Jon's balls again and he grimaced. _Definitely NOT with the gay stuff!_ He hurried after Loras, trying to banish all thoughts of tickling Jon's balls from his memory once and for all.

Renly was having a heated discussion with the Doctor who had administered the stimulant to Robert earlier that afternoon. Gendry caught the gist of the disagreement quickly enough; the first dose had worn off and Renly wanted the Doctor to give Robert another.

As Robert lay comatose and oblivious to the urgent negotiations going on around him, the two men continued to argue. Eventually Loras interrupted.

"It's now or never Renly. They're all here. We _need _to get this done now! Whatever the fuck it takes!"

"Doctor – name your price." Renly sighed.

"You don't understand – this isn't about money!" the Doctor declared earnestly

"This has _everything _to do with money Doctor! I _must_ have Robert ready to face The Board. I can be very generous. How would you like a little top up to that NHS pension of yours?"

"I like that Hippocratic Oath I swore better! Bugger your money!"

Renly opened his mouth to say something, but before any words were out, Loras had a hand clamped over the Doctor's mouth and the Doctor's arm twisted behind his back. Loras whispered menacingly in the Doctor's ear

"You can take his fucking money and do it, or I'll _make_ you do it and then arrange for you to have a little _accident_ on the way home. What do you think Renly? Two hundred thousand paid into an offshore account? Untraceable. Or a car accident on a dark night – also untraceable?

The Doctor's eyes were wide with terror. Trembling, the Doctor slowly nodded his consent. Loras released the hand he had clamped over the Doctor's mouth, allowing the Doctor to speak.

"Fine, but I'm not taking the blame if this kills him! I'll swear you made me do it!"

"Suit yourself, but don't you worry about Robert – leave that to us." Loras snarled and with a sneer curling on his lips, Loras released the Doctor's arm and pushed him away.

"I'll need to go and get another dose. Wait here." The Doctor said, voice quivering with fear or anger or both.

"Wouldn't dream of leaving." Loras snorted as the Doctor walked out, rubbing his bruised arm.

"You know he's a loose end that we can't afford to have Renly." Loras nodded after the Doctor. "Where the hell did you get him from anyway?"

Renly looked tense and nervous and ran his hands through his hair.

"I didn't expect Robert to be so weak and he's getting worse by the hour. It was a last minute decision. Christ Loras! I don't know if he's strong enough to even get through this."

The two men seemed to have forgotten that Gendry was there.

"Well, Robert needs to finish this or we're stuck with that arse Joffrey and his scheming bitch of a mother. Do you want me to get rid of the _loose end_?" Loras asked.

Renly groaned.

"I don't want any more blood on my hands."

"That's why you've got me – so you don't have to." Loras sighed and, to Gendry's surprise, Loras pulled Renly into his arms. Renly leant into Loras's embrace and rested his head on his lover's shoulder, closing his eyes, grateful for a few moments comfort and respite from the mass of pressing problems and the stress of the impending meeting. Loras tenderly kissed the side of Renly's face.

"We're nearly there. A few more hours and it's done. Now come on. You can do this!" Loras encouraged. Renly groaned, as if the effort of even opening his eyes again would be too much.

"I know you're right – as always." Renly sighed, lifting his head up and reluctantly stepping away from Loras's arms. "But no getting rid of anyone! Find something on that Doctor we can use as an insurance policy and make sure he knows we've got it."

Loras made it clear he didn't agree with Renly's decision by shaking his head and clenching his jaw, but he didn't argue.

Soon the Doctor was back with the second syringe. The process was repeated, only this time Robert jerked back into consciousness immediately.

"There's more of the drug in his system, so it's going to have a greater effect this time." The Doctor explained. "I don't know how long you've got, but I suggest you make the most of it."

"Robert, can you finish this?" Renly urged his brother.

Robert blinked a few times, as if trying to remember where he was. Gendry noticed his Father's pupils were now so dilated that the Baratheon blue of his iris was barely visible.

"Damn right I can!" Robert croaked eventually.

"Then let's go!" Loras roared, before opening the door and yelling at the nearest member of his security team to "Get everyone in here – NOW!"

Within moments, two men with two professional looking, High Definition camcorders and tripods hurried in and proceeded to set up in the corner of the hospital room.

Next into the room were the two Psychiatrists who had examined Lord Baratheon earlier, and finally, the three other Board members filed in.

Leading the way was the oldest - Pycelle. His bald head and snowy beard gave the impression of some genial old grandfather, but Gendry had been warned that his appearance was deceptive and in that old head lurked a brain sharper and more likely to cut you than many a younger man's. Petyr Baelish followed, chest puffed out and head held high, as if daring Loras to touch him again now he was with his peers. Varys brought up the rear.

Renly shook each of their hands in turn, loudly thanking each of them for being able to attend at such short notice and in such an inconvenient location. Gendry presumed that was principally for Petyr's benefit, but the Lawyer merely nodded an acknowledgement.

Loras took the final chair beside Varys. Gendry stood beside his wheezing Father as Renly began the introduction they had rehearsed several times before.

"Before we begin, may I introduce you to my nephew, and Robert's heir, _Gendry Baratheon!"_

Gendry walked over to the first chair and shook Pycelle's hand. The old man's grip was like iron and his cold eyes bored into Gendry's own. It was all Gendry could do not to break the eye contact, but he was determined he wouldn't let himself be intimated by any one of these old fucks.

Petyr's handshake was clammy but surprisingly firm.

"We've already met!" the Lawyer snapped.

Finally, Gendry held out his hand to Varys. The biography he'd been given had listed Varys's age as fifty two, but Gendry couldn't see a line on the man's face. His head was shaved, so there was no grey hair and Gendry suspected he might also be wearing some kind of make up. Varys was allegedly of Eastern origin, although he held a Russian passport. As was his habit, he wore an Indian type, gaudily embroidered tunic and baggy trousers, tapered at the ankle, with what looked suspiciously like slippers on his feet. 'Eccentric' didn't begin to describe him.

"Oh my!" Varys giggled. "I've seen your picture of course, but I had no idea you would be so…so like Renly, only younger and better looking!" he giggled again in an unusually high pitched voice.

"I think Renly has something to say!" Loras snarled, earning a coquettish smile and a raised eyebrow from Varys.

Renly cleared his throat and began his well rehearsed speech.

"I'd like to convene this Extraordinary Meeting of the Board of Baratheon Enterprises. We have a quorum present; Pycelle, Petyr, Varys, Loras, myself and of course Robert."

All eyes turned to Lord Baratheon who grunted bad temperedly at Renly to 'Bloody well get on with it'. This resulted in smiles, forced in some cases, from the other Board Members.

"We have only once absence – Stanis Baratheon…"

"Do we have to go through this every fucking time Renly?! I think we all bloody well know who we are and that my damn brother isn't ever going to show up to one of these fucking meetings!" Robert rasped from his bed.

"The necessary formalities must be attended to, and particularly so today. As you can see, we are being filmed for posterity." Renly indicated the two men and the two video cameras.

"Oh I think we all know why we're being filmed in stereo Renly and it's not for posterity!" Varys sniggered "I suspect it's more likely to be so we cannot feign ignorance or deny our involvement in this…_coup_, at some later date."

Renly did his best to look offended.

"My brother is dying Varys, and I am anxious to store as many memories of him as I can while we still have him, both for myself and his _son_."

Renly smiled indulgently at Gendry, who was trying to look upset at the thought of losing his Father. He couldn't help noticing Loras rolling his eyes at his performance.

"First order of business is not strictly company business, but I thought, as we have a Lawyer here, we would take advantage of his presence." Renly grinned at Petyr, who gave him a wary, forced smile back.

"Robert has decided to make a new Will, appointing his true son Gendry as his sole heir and beneficiary and thus revoking his previous Will. Petyr would you be good enough to act as one of the witness?"

Pycelle and Varys exchanged surprised glances and Petyr looked as if he would rather chew off his own hand than witness the new Will, depriving Cersi and her offspring of Robert's estate. However, his voice was calm and polite as he replied

"I'd rather not. I'm sure Robert has his own personal Lawyers who could attend to it."

"Of course I do! They drew the bloody thing up for me, but they're not here now and you are, so will you just fucking act as the witness!" Robert rasped, as best he could, from his hospital bed.

Gendry imagined that, in his prime, Robert would have bellowed his orders and they would have been obeyed immediately and unquestioningly. In fact, Gendry was sure that Petyr would never have dared attempt to refuse, if Robert hadn't been tied to his hospital bed by a myriad of tubes, lines and machines.

"Robert was examined by two consultant psychiatrists earlier this afternoon, who have both certified that he has the mental capacity to sign the new Will, so you needn't have any concerns about that Petyr."

The two psychiatrists spoke up to confirm that what Renly had said was correct and, of course, it was all captured on film - twice. Petyr was obviously seething at being backed into a corner, left with no alternative but to agree.

"Can you read the Will please Robert and confirm that you understand… _all of its_ _consequences_" Petyr asked through gritted teeth.

Renly handed the document to Robert and helped him put on his half-moon reading glasses. Robert made a great show of reading every page and muttering 'yes… yes… agreed' at various points. It was obvious to Gendry that he hadn't been the only one Renly had rehearsed in the past few days.

Once Robert had read all of the Will, Renly handed him a gleaming black and gold fountain pen. With a shaking hand, Robert took the pen and proceeded to sign slowly at the foot of every one of the seven pages. The effort it took was obvious to everyone and Robert sank back, exhausted, into his pile of pillows when he had finished.

With a flourish, Renly handed the document and the fountain pen to Petyr. The Lawyer grabbed both and hastily signed the last page. Renly took the Will back, checked the signature carefully then, smiling with satisfaction, handed it to Loras to act as the second witness. Once he added his signature, Renly folded the new Will carefully and placed it in the breast pocket of his jacket.

"Now to company business!" Renly exclaimed

"Robert wishes to resign from the board, due to his ill health." Lord Baratheon coughed unpleasantly, right on cue. "He wishes his son Gendry to assume all of his stockholdings and also his position as Chairman of the Board." Immediately there was muttering from Pycelle, Petyr and Varys.

"Gentlemen please! You are aware that we require a simple majority vote to assume a new Board member and that the resigning member cannot vote. So, I propose a vote on Lord Baratheon's resignation and Gendry Baratheon's assumption."

"Seconded!" Loras shouted, very quickly and very loudly.

"I cannot agree to this!" Pycelle declared darkly "That boy is too young. Now if it had been one of _us_ appointed as Chairman of The Board, then that would have been a different matter!"

Even to Gendry, who knew nothing of such things, it was clear that Pycelle considered himself to be the rightful candidate for the post.

"I vote 'No'" Petyr spat. "This is a farce! The Lannisters _do not_ agree to this…this B_astard's_ appointment!"

"Noted." Renly replied calmly "and filmed for posterity."

Petyr turned bright red and the veins on his neck and head looked as if they were about to burst. He was obviously livid that he had been caught on camera behaving in such an unprofessional manner.

"So, we have two in favour, two against. It looks as if you have the casting vote Varys!" Renly declared.

Varys smiled enigmatically, obviously relishing being in such a position of power.

Although, outwardly Renly seemed calm and very much in control, Gendry, standing on the other side of the hospital bed from his Uncle, could see a bead of sweat appear at his temple and run, slowly, down his handsome face. It occurred to Gendry that Renly had only been able to plan events so far and that the final decision was apparently beyond his control.

All of the information Gendry had been given during the previous two days had told him the same story – Varys always acted in what he considered to be the good of The Company. He had never consistently sided with either the majority Baratheon shareholders or the Lannister minority. Each and every vote was considered on its individual merits.

How would he vote today? What did he consider to be in the best interests of Baratheon Enterprises?

After an excruciatingly long silence, during which time another bead of sweat formed on Renly's brow and trickled down his face, Varys finally spoke.

"A little bird tells me that young Gendry here doesn't actually want the responsibility of being Chairman of our Board and that this is all Renly's idea. I heard a whisper that, in order to gain control of the Company for himself, Renly had encouraged or, some might say _coerced, _young Gendry into accepting this great responsibility."

Varys's sly smile reminded Gendry of a snake. Out of the corner of his eye, Gendry could see his Uncle tense with barely concealed anger. Gendry hadn't gone through all this shit, come this far, to fall at the final hurdle. He closed his eyes briefly, imagining how his Father would have answered the same question when he was twenty six. Drawing himself up to his full height of six foot four, knowing he was looking the part in his fucking designer suit, Gendry decided it was time to show them all he was nobody's pawn.

"Bullshit! Varys, your little birds lie! I'm the one who wants this – not Renly! I'm my Father's son and I'll take what's rightfully mine!"

Gendry though he was going to choke on that bit about being his Father's son, but he forced it out and glared at Varys, daring him to challenge his authority.

"Ahh, it seems I was mistaken then. But before I cast my vote, I wonder if Robert has made any…charitable provisions in his will? The company Widows and Orphans fund is dreadfully short of funds and a generous donation would assist my charitable activities enormously." Varys suggested.

"Half a million to the bloody fund if you'll just get on with it!" Robert rasped from his bed.

"Oh, wonderful!" Varys crowed, clapping his fleshy hands together "In that case, I agree – Gendry will be a welcome addition to our small council!"

Pycelle tut-tutted loudly and Petyr swore under his breath.

"Motion carried! Robert has resigned and Gendry is appointed Chairman of the Board!" Renly cheered

The relief on Renly and Loras's faces was plain to see. Pycelle had a bad tempered look on his face, Petyr looked sick at the thought of having to report the outcome of the meeting to his Lannister masters and Varys looked smug, having got what he wanted, from the deal.

As the Board Members, Doctors and camera crew filed out, leaving only Renly, Loras and Gendry with Robert, Gendry asked if he could have some time alone with his Father.

Renly quickly agreed and he and Loras also left, Loras wrapping his arm protectively around Renly's shoulder.

Gendry sat down at his Father's bedside. Lord Robert's eyes were beginning to close again and his breathing was becoming ever more laboured.

Gendry leaned in close and whispered "I need to ask you something Father."

Although actually calling the old bastard '_Father_' stuck in his throat, Gendry had decided it would be the best way to get the information he wanted from Robert.

"_Son_" Lord Baratheon whispered back. His rheumy eyes, shone with pride as he looked at Gendry. "There's only one thing left for me to give you son. I've given you my name, my company, my title and now all that's left is the greatest gift of them all…the Werewolf."

Gendry had to stifle a snort of derision. As if he was going to let the old bastard bite him! No fucking way! Arya would kill him. He'd promised her he wouldn't and he had no intention of breaking that promise.

"Before that, I want to know…how did you meet my mother?"

Lord Robert's eyes narrowed suspiciously. His breath gurgled and wheezed as he looked at Gendry, as if deciding whether or not to answer.

"Please _Father_, I know what appetites us Baratheon men have." Gendry winked conspiratorially at the old man. "You can tell me – _everything_."

Lord Baratheon seemed to be convinced by this and cast his mind back twenty seven years…

"Oh, she was beauty all right. Tall and blonde with an arse you would never tire of fucking. She wore those really short skirts and she was asking for it." Robert leered at Gendry, as if the memory excited him still. Gendry fought to control his revulsion and to keep the false smile plastered to his face.

"Go on… I want to hear all about it _Father_" Gendry encouraged through his fake smile and gritted teeth.

"I wasn't interested at first – I had Lyanna, but when she rejected me, I was hurt and angry. I was angry like you can't imagine. The first full moon after she returned to Winterfell, she had to hunt. I knew she would, as we'd done it so many times together since she'd turned me. I thought I'd fuck her as usual. Oh, fucking under a full moon Gendry – you have no idea what pleasures are ahead of you. You'll thank me until the day you die for giving you that."

"I'm sure I will _Father_ – but what happened?" Gendry urged, fearing the old bastard would lapse into unconsciousness before finishing his story.

"Lyanna rejected me, fought me off. Oh she was stronger than me then – the Alpha's always have that edge. It wasn't until she was heavy with…heavy and slow that I could fight her and win." Robert gurgled with obvious pride at the memory.

Gendry gagged with revulsion. His father was boasting about fighting and beating a pregnant woman, but he had to hear the rest, no matter how unsavoury he found it.

"So, this time, this full moon, what happened?"

"Lyanna wouldn't let me fuck her and my blood was up. After trying to mount her, after fighting, what could I do? Just go and lick my wounds? No! That's not what a wolf does! A wolf takes what he needs! I needed a fuck and I remembered that blonde bitch from the pub. So I lay in wait and it was my lucky night as she was locking the pub up alone. While she was walking home in the darkness, I took my opportunity! With an arse like that - I bet she was fucked ever other night of the week."

"So…she didn't know it was you?" Gendry stammered. The effort of controlling himself, of not tightened his hands around Robert Baratheon's throat and wringing the last drop of life out of the man who had just admitted to raping his mother was taking its toll. He was really struggling to keep smiling, keep talking and keep pretending.

"How could she know it was me? Anyway, was it really me? It was the Wolf!" Robert chuckled to himself, his breath rasping and gurgling in his scrawny throat. Gendry imagined his hands tightening around that throat, constricting the airflow, extracting revenge on his mother's behalf.

"So you didn't know she'd had a baby? Had me? Ned Stark never told you?"

"Ned Stark! No. That sanctimonious cunt never spoke to me again! He blanked me after Lyanna left me. He was supposed to be my best friend and he dropped me as soon as she did! But I made them both pay!"

Gendry had heard enough to haunt him for the rest of his life. He didn't want to hear any more, but he also felt he owed it to Jon and Arya to find out what had happened to Lyanna.

"Good for you! Tell me how you made them pay!" Gendry forced himself to congratulate his Father and to seem eager to hear more. He grinned encouragingly and leaned in closer.

"The third Full Moon at Winterfell. We'd fought the other two moons and she'd beat me, but the third time… I told you, she was heavy and slow with that thing in her belly and I won, I finally won and I became the Alpha."

"But how? What happened to Lyanna?"

Lord Baratheon didn't answer for a long time, instead his breathing became even more erratic and a tear began to roll down his cheek.

"I didn't mean to go so far, but a man… a wolf, can only take so much. I only wanted to make her my Beta, but she wouldn't yield, she wouldn't lie down and she fought me so hard…so hard…" he broke off, sobbing.

Gendry whispered in his father's ear

"Did you know her child survived? That he's alive today?"

Even after all these years, through his tears and his self pity, that news had the power to shock. Robert immediately stopped snivelling and turned his head to look at Gendry, shock etched onto his face.

Gendry whispered again

"Rhaegar Targaryen's child… her child, a son."

"You wouldn't lie to me, would you son?" Robert rasped

"Now why would I do that?" Gendry sneered. "_I want you to know before you die, that a bit of her survived and that he is everything she was and everything you are not!_ " Gendry paused for dramatic effect, enjoying the feeling of power he had over the old man, the feeling of revenge.

"You are a rapist, a murderer and I will _never_ be like you. I hope you rot in hell."

Gendry savoured the look of impotent rage on his Father's face.

Gendry allowed him self a self satisfied smirk; he'd got what he wanted; he was Chairman of the Board, he knew what had happened to his mother, to Lyanna and he would be Lord Baratheon soon enough. And, best of all, he had achieved all this without breaking his promise to Arya.

But Gendry was too busy congratulating himself to remember Robert Baratheon's greatest ally and the source of his power - the Moon.

The earlier delays meant that it was now nine o'clock and the sun was setting. As he leant smugly back in his chair, Gendry realised the light had changed and, as he looked out of the window thinking about getting up to flick on a light switch, his Father's eyes changed from watery, rheumy blue to burning orange, his canine teeth elongated and the wolf's powerful muscles began to manifest themselves in his scrawny neck and chest. As fast as lightening, faster than a dying man should have been able to move, Lord Baratheon lunged at Gendry's throat. Gendry caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and instinctively started to recoil in horror as his father attacked.

The Werewolf's jaws missed their intended target of Gendry's throat and collided instead with his shoulder, ripping through his suit, his shirt, skin, muscle, tendons and biting down on the bone underneath.

Gendry screamed in shock and pain; the force of the attack knocking him backwards onto the floor. The Werewolf, with its huge canines still buried deep in the muscle of his shoulder fell with him, dragging the lines, monitors and machines that had all been attached to Robert Baratheon with it. The two of them fell onto the floor, under a pile of equipment as Gendry fought for his life. Alarms were going off in the room and everywhere else as the machines screamed their warnings.

Renly and Loras burst into the room. Loras barked an order to the security men to close the door and to let no-one else, not even doctors, into the room.

Renly ran over to the writhing bodies as the alarms squealed their panic. He grabbed Gendry by the arms and hauled him out from under the machines and the Werewolf as he yelled at Loras to help Robert.

Loras stood still as a statue and, for the first time, didn't instantly obey Renly's command. Renly yelled again

"Help my brother!"

"No" Loras replied coldly. "He deserves to die and I'll not lift a finger to help him."

The heart monitor had given up screaming, its cry subsiding to a flat, constant monotone.

After Renly had dragged his nephew over to the side of the room and propped him up against a wall, he returned to attempt to untangle Robert from the wreckage of equipment and bed clothes. Renly managed to push everything else away and turn Robert onto his back. As Renly cradled his brother in his arms, the Werewolf's body shrunk and withered. The wolf was gone, death coming before the transition had been fully completed. Renly held a frail old man as Robert's final death rattle convulsed his body. When the racking breathing finally ceased, Renly tenderly closed his brother's eyes and lifted him back onto the hospital bed.

The last glow of the sun had now disappeared below the horizon and the Full Moon was riding high in the sky.

"I need to go Loras; I can't hold it any longer." Renly gasped. Sitting on the floor and through his pain, Gendry could see that Renly was shaking, not with shock, but with effort. His eyes were burning orange, the irises black slits. His face was slick with sweat, hair dishevelled and already Gendry could see coarse, brown hair appearing on his usually perfectly smooth cheeks.

"Go then! I'll catch up." Loras urged.

Renly half ran, half staggered to the door. As soon as he opened it, the two members of his Rainbow Guard, who had been waiting outside, jumped to his aid.

"Get me out of here - _fast_" Renly ordered. The men obeyed immediately; supporting Renly. They pushed past the protesting hospital Crash Team, who had been summoned by the alarms and kept outside the room by the Rainbow Guards. One of the Doctors, in a green jumpsuit, pushed into the room as Renly was hurried away.

"What's the meaning of this? Why weren't we allowed in here?"

"Because there was no point" Renly snarled. "The old fucker's dead. See for yourselves."

As the crash team swarmed around the corpse of Robert Baratheon, Renly squatted down and hoisted Gendry's arm over his shoulder, heaving him up into a standing position and walking the new Lord Baratheon to the door. Out in the corridor, Gendry could see Renly disappearing through the emergency exit with his two guards. At the other end of the corridor he could see Arya; Arya and Jon being held back by two more of Renly's Rainbow Guard.

"Bryce, Emmon! Let them through!" Loras barked. The two bodyguards stepped aside and Arya ran, full pelt towards Gendry, with Jon following close behind. Gendry felt his head roll to the side and his eyes close. Christ! Not now! He needed to see her, needed to explain to her what had happened, but he couldn't keep his eyes open. Jesus, he could hardly stand.

Gendry heard Loras shout "Jon, help me! Get his other arm", but it sounded far away, although the lucid part of his brain knew Loras was right beside him; that it was only Loras's strength keeping him upright.

"AAAArg!" he heard himself yell as Jon lifted his arm, _his bitten arm_ up and supported him on the other side. Whether it was relief because Jon and Arya were finally here, or whether he simply had no strength left, Gendry didn't know, but he suddenly felt his knees buckle under him. He heard both Loras and Jon swear and grunt with effort as they suddenly had to bear his whole weight. He tried to struggle back to his feet, but the effort was beyond him.

He felt himself being dragged along. He tried to say "Arya!" but no sound came out of his mouth. He opened his eyes and still he couldn't see her - a red haze clouding his vision. He had to see her. He blinked hard and shouted her name. This time she heard him. The dragging stopped and he felt a strong hand push his chin up. Through the red haze he finally saw her. This wasn't what was supposed to happen, how he wanted her to see him. She was crying and yelling at him

"_You promised me Gendry! You promised me!_"

"I know Arya" He mumbled. "I'm sorry."

"It's not too late. Come with _me_." She sobbed. "Brienne and Jon will take us back to the hotel. Don't go to Storm's End with _them_." She pleaded

He knew it was too late. His father was dead. He was Lord Baratheon now. He was also part of the Baratheon Wolf Pack now, whether he wanted it or not.

"My father's dead. I have to go." He whispered. "Forgive me Arya."

She slapped him.

She slapped him across his face as hard as she could .He heard the sharp, flat sound of the slap and vaguely felt it sting. It didn't make him angry. He welcomed her touch; however she chose to give it to him. He deserved her anger and as much of it as she would give him. He'd let her down and all her plans; all _their _plans, lay in ruins.

Gendry heard Loras growl furiously

"We have to go. _Now_. You can come if you want Arya, but Gendry's going to Storm's End whether you like it or not."

"_You fucking bastard Loras! You and Renly set him up and he was __**mine!**__ We were going to be happy - you fucking arsehole."_

Gendry never heard Loras's reply if he gave one. Instead Loras heaved him higher and urged Jon to 'get him to the cars'.

Gendry heard Arya pleading with Jon and Jon's firm refusal to return to London with her. Gendry felt a wave of relief wash over him – at least he would have one ally in Storm's End. As he was dragged along again, he was vaguely aware of Arya shouting and crying behind him, but he couldn't understand what she was saying. He couldn't understand anything anymore and he lapsed into unconsciousness as they dragged him away from her.

-0-

Jon sat in second of three Ranger Rovers, racing through the dark towards Storm's End. He could hear the sirens of the Police motorcycle outriders and, if the convoy turned a corner, he could see their blue flashing lights and the column of vehicles ahead. A privacy partition separated him from the driver, so he was alone in the back of the car with Gendry, cradling his friend's head in his lap.

Gendry's face was waxy white and, in the moonlight, he looked as if he could be dead. His hands and face were icy cold and only the ragged breathing assured Jon that Gendry was still alive. Loras hadn't seemed concerned about the wound in Gendry's shoulder or the state he was in, in fact quite the opposite. Loras was acting as if this was expected… planned even.

The Head of Baratheon Security had ordered him to look after Gendry - to make sure he got to Storm's End where a medical team were anticipating their arrival. Jon had panicked when he was told he was being left alone with Gendry. He had asked Loras where Renly was and why Loras wasn't coming too. Loras had just laughed and leered at him, before jumping into the first of the three Range Rovers.

They'd been travelling for over an hour, through the outskirts of London, through the suburbs and were well on their way to the Stormlands and their final destination – the Baratheon castle; Storm's End. Fields had begun appearing on either side. When the moon was hidden behind a cloud, the night was black, with only occasional lights from distant farm houses breaking up the darkness. When the full moon chose to appear from behind a cloud, she flooded the night with eerie moonlight.

Once they were in open countryside, Jon felt the car slow. They were still far from Storm's End and, when he looked out of the window, he could see no reason for them to stop. However, the whole convoy had definitely slowed rapidly, to around thirty miles per hour. The black night and the tinted windows made it hard to see clearly, so he lowered the Ranger Rover's tinted glass in order to get a better view.

He could still see no reason for their change of pace and, just as he was about to give up and raise the glass, the moon came out from behind a cloud. In the moonlight he saw the door of the first Range Rover being flung open and two shadowy figures leap from the moving car. They hit the ground running, one an instant after the other, and raced off towards the open countryside. Within seconds they were out of sight and the convoy began to gain speed again.

Jon was a practical man and his eyes had never deceived him before. He had also seen and heard enough in the past few days to believe that what he had just witnessed was real and not some figment of an overstressed imagination. Two huge wolves had leapt from the moving vehicle; there was no doubt about that. However, he wasn't sure if he had imagined that one of them had turned and looked straight at him, before it followed the other, racing off into the night.

_**So, finally, Gendry is a Werewolf. One of the guest reviewers asked if this was the end. Hell no! This is just the beginning! I never thought it would take me 14 chapters to get here though.**_

_**I'd like to take this opportunity to thank all the reviewers and particularly the guest ones as I can't thank you personally. I suspect it's the same guests who review every chapter and I just want to say a heartfelt 'Thank you'. It's a lot of effort writing this many words every week and it helps to know it's appreciated.**_

_**Jaqen, Cersei, Val and Aegon…here we come!**_


	15. Chapter 15 - Black & White

Chapter 15

Black& White

**Right, before I start, I'm going to remind you, dear readers, that this is a modern AU and my Sansa is a **_**very **_**modern girl, so don't give me any flames for her not being exactly like GRRM's (who I should remind you owns all characters, names and likenesses)**

Arya and Brienne stood and watched the tail lights of the convoy of cars disappear into the distance.

"Are you sure you're making the right decision Arya? He looked pretty messed up in there and it's not too late to follow them to Storm's End." Brienne suggested.

"No bloody way!" Arya ranted. "He messed up, crossed the line. That was a deal breaker!"

"Hmm… I'm just trying to say, everything's not always so black and white."

"Thanks, I'll bear that in mind." Arya replied sarcastically.

"Where do you want to go now then?" Brienne asked eventually.

"Back to the hotel." Arya snapped. She had been so angry that she hadn't though about _what happens next._

If everything had gone according to plan, she would have been back at the hotel with Gendry and Jon hours ago, going over the days events with a large glass of Pinot Grigio in her hand and her fiancé by her side. But things hadn't gone according to plan had they?

She still couldn't believe that Gendry had let himself be bitten, but she had no doubt that she had made the right decision. After everything her Father had told her, she was even more determined than before to have nothing to do with Werewolves.

What she couldn't understand was why Jon didn't feel the same. Why had he gone off with Gendry and the bloody Baratheons? He knew what he was getting himself into and yet he still went? Hadn't he listened to their Father? Oh… _her_ Father. She wondered if she would ever get her head around that. How could you live your whole life with someone you thought was your brother and then, when you found out he wasn't, feel any differently about him or call him anything different? He would always be her big brother. She wasn't so sure that he would always be her _favourite_ big brother though, as she was bloody raging with him just now.

There were still several Baratheon security guards standing outside the hospital. Brienne called over to the nearest two and told them to get transport back to the hotel. The girls didn't have to wait long until two black cars pulled up. A suited man jumped out of the passenger seat of the first car and opened the rear door for them. Arya got in first. Brienne had a hurried conversation with her colleague before they set off.

Ten minutes into the journey, their driver received a radio message from the car behind, which he, in turn, relayed to Brienne.

"Looks like we're being followed."

Arya immediately turned around to look out of the rear window, only to have her head pushed down by Brienne's big hand.

"First rule of the chase – don't let _them_ know that _you _know they're following you."

"What's your orders Ma'am?" the man in the front passenger seat asked.

"I suspect we're not what they're looking for – particularly tonight, but I want to see who and what we're dealing with. Let's go with a starburst to a chokepoint and, if you can, keep it as a coverstop. I want this tail burned."

"Yes, Ma'am!" their driver snapped before relaying Brienne's orders to the driver of the following car. Arya heard hasty plans being made, but there was so much jargon involved that she couldn't make head or tail of what was actually going on.

"Can you fill me in Brienne?" she asked rather bad temperedly. It was as if they were all speaking a foreign language that deliberately excluded her. Arya felt it was extremely rude, particularly as she was presumably the reason for their being followed in the first place.

"We think there's only one car following us. So we're going to split up temporarily, see which one of us he follows, try and get a good look at him and keep it all routine. We don't want to let him know we're onto him."

The man in the passenger seat turned around to provide them with details.

"There's a retail park with a petrol station up ahead. We'll turn in there. We stop for fuel, they continue on. One of us should get an eye on their agent."

Brienne nodded her approval. Within minutes, they were turning off the main road and pulling into the petrol station as the second car drove on into the retail park. Their co-driver got out and quickly crouched at the side of the car, pretending to check the tyre. As he did so, a nondescript blue car drove quickly past. However, there was nothing nondescript about the driver. He was pointedly ignoring them, staring straight ahead as he followed their support car into the retail park, but Arya would have recognised that burned face anywhere. It belonged to the man from The Tourney; Sansa's close protection fuck buddy.

"I've seen him before – he's definitely a Lannister man." Brienne started telling their driver.

"His name's Sandor" Arya offered.

Brienne turned to her, looking surprised.

"And how come Lady Stark knows his name and I don't?"

"He was watching Gendry at a gig we went to last week. My sister used to go out with Joffrey and he was Joffrey's Close Protection officer. Is that the right word?" Brienne nodded her agreement. "And my sister had an…erm…thing for him." Arya continued, unsure of how much she should tell Brienne about Sansa's predilection for giving badass men blow jobs.

"Really?" Brienne wondered.

"Yes, _really"_ Arya confirmed, also finding it rather hard to believe that prim, virginal Sansa was the blow job queen of Westeros; well, that Sansa and all her equally prim, equally virginal, friends were.

The co-driver was back in his seat and they were moving off again in seconds.

"So what happens now?" Arya asked

"He'll have realised we're on to him, so he's lost his use as a tail. He'll fall back and call in support. I don't think that our destination is going to come as any surprise, but the fact that we've got a tail makes me think the Lannisters have stepped up their operations."

Arya shivered. She had managed to push Dr Cressen, the man Jon killed, Sandor and the Lannisters to the back of her mind in the past few days. She had felt so safe in the hotel with Gendry, surrounded by Baratheon security, but now Gendry was gone and the threat seemed very real again.

They made it to The Dorchester without any sign of another tail, but all the same, Brienne insisted they use a back entrance. Arya was bundled out of the car and into the hotel as fast as Brienne could manage it.

They went up to the eighth floor in a service elevator and there were security guards at the lift when they arrived. 'All this effort and fuss for me' Arya thought. She wondered if it would stop as soon as the Lannisters and the Baratheons realised she wasn't any use to either side now; now she wasn't with Gendry.

It was with a sense of great relief that she shut the hotel room door behind her. But it didn't last long. Although housekeeping had been in and tidied the room, evidence that Gendry had been there was everywhere. His big, black sports watch was sitting by the side of the bed. He'd left it there because Renly had told him it wouldn't look 'appropriate' with a suit. His boots were by the door and she knew that, if she went into the bathroom, she'd find his toothbrush and razor.

Suddenly she didn't feel so angry anymore. Suddenly she felt very alone and lost. Her whole future was supposed to be with him and now she had nothing. She'd walked out of Winterfell, turned her back on her Father for him and now he'd buggered off back to Storm's End with bloody Renly. But there was no going back. She'd told Gendry that she would never accept the Werewolf thing. She had tried so hard to get him away from Storm's End and Renly and she had failed. He was back there, with Jon, while she was on her own.

If she went back to Winterfell, with her tail between her legs, she would need to accept that her Father was right about Gendry and that she was the 'stupid little girl' he'd said she was. No! She wasn't going to do that. She was nearly twenty one and it was about time she stood on her own two feet. She didn't need to depend on men; either her Father or Gendry. She could look after herself.

This determination lasted for all of three minutes, until she walked into the bathroom and saw his blue tooth brush and her pink one, leaning against each other on the shelf. She felt a lump in her throat and as she looked in the mirror, repeating "_Don't you dare cry Arya Stark! Don't you dare cry!"_ to herself, she saw the tears well up in her eyes and start to run down her cheeks. _Why did that stupid bastard have to go and leave her alone? _

On impulse, she picked up his toothbrush and squeezed the toothpaste onto it. She was about to use it when she realised how pathetic she was being, and threw it in the bin. She used her own toothbrush, cleaning her teeth in a very determined way, but the tears still came, unbidden, into her eyes. Taking her make up off only made things worse. She could see how blotchy her skin was and how awful she really looked.

She staggered back into the bedroom, discarding her clothes as she went. When she'd slept with him, she'd slept naked, but she was shivering and he wasn't here. There would be no more making love or cuddles and the thought of that made her cry even harder.

She opened the wardrobe door to find something to sleep in and saw one of his stupid 'Team Green Kawasaki' T shirts through the blur of her tears. She grabbed it and put it on. It still smelled of him as he obviously hadn't put it in the laundry after he'd last worn it – typically bloody man. But the smell of him around her was enough to make her break down completely and collapse on the bed sobbing. She remembered waking up at some point in the night, shivering, and then crawling under the covers, but she didn't wake again until morning.

It was a dull, overcast London morning, which suited her mood completely. She woke up with a new determination to get on with her life – alone. She started throwing stuff into the suitcase she'd brought from Storm's End. She had decided that her best option was to go back to her student flat. If she was being honest with herself, there were no other options that didn't involve crawling to somebody and she wasn't _ever_ going to do that! Loras had said her flat wasn't safe, but he wasn't here now and she was going.

While packing, Arya hesitated, trying to decide whether to leave Gendry's stupid T shirt on the floor for the maid, or take it with her. She decided to throw it in her suitcase, in case she needed a cleaning rag. After she had poked her head out of the door and told the nearest Baratheon Security Guard that she was ready to go, she did her final check around the room. His stupid chunky watch was still sitting there and his stupid big boots. His old bike jacket was hanging in the wardrobe with a few more of his things. Again she hesitated. Should she take the jacket or not? Did it represent happy memories or sad? What the hell! It was just a jacket and it was cool in a kind of, way too big, beat up, badass way. She pulled it on.

The last thing was the pink and black Agent Provocateur bag sitting on the floor of the wardrobe. Nearly a grand's worth of underwear in one very pretty bag. She'd never even opened any of the exquisitely wrapped, black tissue parcels.

She chewed her lip as she remembered the two of them in the shop. Gendry had been ordered away to some very important, shitty thing that Renly needed him for, leaving her to go shopping with Brienne. Arya had deliberately left the Agent Provocateur shop until last, hoping that Gendry would be back for that. When she had eventually text him asking if he could _please_ meet her there, he had apparently told Renly to shove it and hot footed it over to the shop, albeit with three bodyguards in tow.

The changing room had made Arya feel as if she had stepped into a Courtesan's boudoir, where your lover could watch as you tried on the unbelievably sexy underwear. Watching didn't seem to be all Gendry had in mind, as every outfit she modelled for him apparently had some strap or seam that needed adjusting. He had used every excuse to run his hands over her body and grind his rock hard erection against her. The two of them had been virtually panting with unrequited lust, but Brienne kept sticking her head around the black curtain, claiming she had to keep an eye on Arya.

Brienne took her responsibility so seriously, and she was also so damn nice, that Arya couldn't be angry with her, but Gendry's patience had worn so thin that Arya had decided she had to end things before they got out of hand in one way or another. She had decided just to buy everything she hadn't tried on and possibly return it later. Given Gendry's very obvious enthusiasm for every one of the corsets, basques and suspenders she had tried, it was unlikely any of it would actually make it back to the shop. He had paid for it all with Renly's metal credit card and despite herself, Arya was delighted that he had been able to buy it for her – no way would she have got _any_ of that on his old wages!

No wonder things had got a bit of hand with Danni and Jon that night; Arya had never been so turned on for so long before.

She hooked the pink and black bag over the handle of her suitcase and sat down to wait for Brienne, wondering if she could still return all of that underwear for a refund when it had been paid for with _his _credit card. Bloody Renly's credit card!

An hour later they were at Arya's student flat. She knew it wasn't like most student flats. When she'd been offered a place at University in London, her mother had insisted that a 'good' flat in a 'good' area be bought for her. A 'good' area to Lady Catelyn Stark meant a conservative, leafy street where a three bedroom flat cost well over half a million pounds. Arya knew her parent's had to take a mortgage over the flat, but she'd shared with two other girls and presumed their rental payments covered the mortgage. Just like everything else in her life before Gendry, she'd just accepted it without question. She had needed somewhere to stay in London, so Mummy and Daddy bought her a flat. Now she could see that her attitude had been more like Sansa's than she'd realised.

The other two girls were back home for the summer, as she should have been, and the flat would be empty until September when term started again.

The rooms were small, as even half a million pounds didn't buy much in central London, but everything was cosy and welcoming. After Storm's End and The Dorchester, Arya was really glad to be back to small and homely. She had imagined Gendry and her playing house here, doing all the normal things like chores and cooking but it would all have been new and exciting and wonderful with him. She gave herself a shake and remembered what her father had said – "his kind is not for you Arya." No, his kind wasn't.

After doing a 'recce' of the flat (Brienne had to explain that meant 'reconnaissance') Brienne started poking around the kitchen cupboards.

"You've got nothing to eat in here Arya. We're going to need provisions."

There was a delicatessen a few streets away, but Arya was perturbed to find that even going to the local shop meant Brienne striding along beside her – ever vigilant, while the support car constantly drove up and down the street they were walking along. Arya was tempted to strop and stamp her feet and demand this _over _protection stopped, but after Sandor following them the night before, she had to admit she was rather reassured by it.

Arya started filling her basket with biscuits and ready meals as Brienne hovered over her.

"What are you buying all that crap for?" Brienne asked, dropping her eyes to Arya's basket for a moment before continuing to scan the deli for any potential threat from the trendy clientele.

"Umm, it's just what I usually buy. Easy to cook and all that." Arya muttered.

"You mean easy to nuke in the microwave? I'm not eating that shit, so put it all back and let's buy some proper food. If I'm living with you 24/7 I'm not eating _that_." Brienne said, screwing her face up at the contents of Arya's basket.

So Arya put it back. Brienne also picked up a basket and the two of them filled their baskets with vegetables, rice, oats, eggs, chicken and a few other things that Arya had never bought before and didn't have a clue how to use, like soy sauce and edamame beans.

Brienne did her usual vigilant thing while Arya put all of the things through the check-out and handed over her credit card as Brienne mouthed 'how much?' in horror to her. Shopping in a 'good' part of London was almost as expensive as living there.

Arya was packing everything in the eco-friendly, brown paper bags when the middle aged, hippy looking woman on the till cleared her throat and whispered loudly

"There's a problem with your card dear."

Arya looked at her blankly. She hadn't used the card for a while as Gendry had paid for everything, but she'd never had a problem before.

"Did I put in the wrong number?" Arya smiled and asked brightly.

"Err, no dear. I've never actually seen this message before." The lady put on a pair of glasses that were hanging on a gold chain around her neck and peered at the card reader, carefully reading the message out loud.

"It says 'Declined. Merchant to retain and destroy card'. I'm sorry dear, but I need to do what the machine says."

Arya was puzzled, but not unduly concerned. There was obviously some mix up. The card company had probably stopped it as a precaution because she hadn't used it for ages and she normally used it several times a day. No doubt they'd tell her it had been declined because it was 'out with her normal spending pattern' or something equally facetious. She would phone the credit card company when she got home, but to save the woman any more hassle, and to avoid the queue of yummy mummies behind her growing any longer, she pulled her debit card out of her purse and offered it to the woman with an apologetic smile.

Giving her a forced smile in return, the shop assistant held onto Arya's credit card and inserted her debit card. Arya keyed in the number and continued packing her groceries. She knew there was plenty of money in her account as she hadn't spent any of this months allowance yet. But the seconds began to drag as no '_Approved_' appeared on the little grey screen. Arya began to get a little flustered. The shop assistant was peering at her, then back at the machine, through those glasses on the gold chain.

"_Beeeeeeep_. _Declined. Merchant to retain and destroy card_." Again. Shit!

Arya couldn't believe it. This had never happened to her before, well only once when she'd tried to buy a Louis Vuitton handbag that was over £500 for her mother's birthday. Once she knew she had a limit of £500, she'd never had a problem since. She stared, wide eyed, at the assistant, who was staring angrily back at Arya. Fortunately Brienne picked that moment to intervene and hand over a gold card with the bloody prancing Baratheon stag on it. Arya had never been so glad to see that bloody stag. Brienne's card was accepted without a problem and the woman gave them both a forced smile as she handed Brienne the receipt and her card. Arya walked out of the door with several bags of groceries and no cards.

"Oh my God!" Arya spluttered as soon as they were out of the shop. "Thanks so much Brienne. I'm mortified that bloody Renly had to pay for my food but I've no idea what happened there. I'll phone the bank as soon as I get in!"

"Don't call him that!" Brienne huffed. "If it wasn't for him you'd be going hungry tonight! But whose name was on those cards Arya?"

"My Dad's. I've got a second or a third card or something on his account."

"Well, I think it's pretty obvious what's happened then."

"Not to me it's not!" Arya snapped.

"Didn't your Dad say he would wash his hands of you if you chose Gendry?"

"Umm. Yes." Arya muttered.

"So, he's only done what he said he would; he's stopped your cards. Did you _really _expect him to keep bankrolling you, when you run off with a Baratheon against his will?"

"Oh. I hadn't thought of that." Arya choked.

"Exactly!" Brienne said smugly. "You don't think enough about the consequences of your actions Arya Stark".

Arya made a face, but didn't answer. Brienne was right. _What the hell was she going to do now?_

_-o-_

Brienne spent the rest of the day on the phone, organising extra locks for the doors, panic alarms and perspex-like sheeting for the windows that, much to Arya's horror, Brienne insisted was vital to make them bullet proof. Arya shuddered to think what her neighbours and the local planning department were going to think of that.

Arya had intended to spend the time catching up with her e-mails and texts. There were umpteen missed calls and texts from Sansa wanting to know what was going on. She had been deliberately avoiding her sister for days and certainly didn't feel any more inclined to have a long, difficult conversation with her know about Winterfell and Jon and _everything_. So she managed to fob Sansa off by agreeing to meet her later in the week. At least Sansa would pay and she'd get a lunch out of it. She wondered what on earth Sansa and Brienne would make of each other.

Arya hadn't been near facebook or contacted any of her friends since meeting Gendry and, now feeling lonely; she had intended to get back in the loop. However, she was too distracted to do it. There was only one thought occupying her mind that afternoon – how she was going to survive without the Starks' or the Baratheons' money.

The answer was obvious – she needed to get a job and quickly – like _now_, but what wasn't so obvious was what kind of job she could get. She had a look through a few internet jobs pages, but every single one of the jobs seemed to require a degree and/or experience. Arya hadn't finished her course yet, so she had no degree and certainly no experience. Of anything. Even bar jobs wanted references and details of previous experience. The harsh reality was that Arya had never done a day's work in her life. All she had ever done was suit herself.

Unable to concentrate, she eventually wandered into the kitchen, where Brienne was simultaneously talking on the phone and pulling various vegetables out of the fridge.

"I'm hungry." she mouthed at Arya.

When she finished the phone call, she handed Arya a gnarly bit of root ginger.

"I was just about to give you a shout. Seeing as you don't appear to ever have cooked before, I'm going to show you how to make a fantastic chicken, ginger and edameme pilaf. Can you grate the ginger for me?"

As Arya hunted around for a grater, she decided to tell Brienne about her problem.

"I've decided to get a job." She declared solemnly.

"Good for you!" Brienne grinned as she began chopping chicken. "What kind of job?"

"Umm, well, that's the problem." Arya muttered. "I don't know."

"Well, what do you want to do?"

"I dunno."

"Well, what kind of work have you done in the past?" asked Brienne.

"Err, I haven't done any."

Brienne stopped chopping and looked sideways at Arya.

"Ok, so you haven't done any _paid_ work, but you must have some kind of unpaid experience. Like helped out around the Winterfell Estate?"

Arya shook her head, embarrassed.

"What did you do in the holidays?" Brienne wondered

"Err… I just went on holiday." Arya admitted. God, she felt stupid. How had she got to be twenty, nearly twenty one, without doing _anything _she could put on a C.V.?

"So, what are you studying at Uni then?" Brienne asked, trying to find something positive to focus on.

"History of Art." Arya mumbled. She was even embarrassed to tell solid, practical Brienne about her course. Arya was beginning to realise it was another, pretty useless thing, in her pretty useless life. She had thought herself so much better than Sansa. She had gone off to University while Sansa stayed at home spending their parent's money. But Arya now realised that she had been doing exactly the same thing, only in London rather than Winterfell. She felt sick.

"Ok!" said Brienne too brightly. "So what job did you think you'd get when you were finished your degree?"

"Work in a gallery I suppose. I didn't really think about getting a job." She answered miserably.

When money was always just there, actually having to _earn_ it hadn't seemed much of a priority. She remembered what Jon had said to her in Winterfell when she'd asked his advice about Gendry. Jon had warned her then that money would be a problem

"_I'm not interested in money!_" Arya had told him.

"_But you only think that because you've got it!" _he'd said and"_Someday… you'll be relying on someone other than your father to pay your bills."_

How right he had been! And how ironic that Gendry was now the one with plenty of it while she had none!

"You know Renly would give you whatever you needed until you got yourself sorted." Brienne suggested gently.

"No!" Arya yelled, before adding "Sorry Brienne, but that's the _last _thing I want to do. Well, maybe the equal_ last_ thing. It's right down there at the bottom of my list, alongside asking my Dad."

"Hmm, well I hope there are a few more ideas further up that list." Brienne grumbled.

Arya's face fell. They both knew she hadn't any other ideas.

"Ok, but if you're really stuck, I'll help you out." Brienne offered. Seeing the unhappy look on Arya's face, she hastily added "but only if you pay me back as soon as you get a job."

"Thanks Brienne. You're a real friend." And Arya meant it. Already, she felt that Brienne was a more genuine friend than all of the London girls she knew. At least she wouldn't starve with Brienne around she thought as she started grating the ginger.

"Arya!" Brienne cried sharply. "You've got to peel ginger root before you grate it."

"Oh. Sorry. I've never done this before." Arya apologised.

"I can tell. I think you have a lot to learn Miss Stark!" Brienne grinned cheekily.

Arya could see that trying to carry on with her old life wasn't an option. The old Arya _had_ to change if she was going to get through this.

After dinner, before a team of workmen descended on the flat to bullet proof the windows, Arya had decided to send a text to Jon asking how Gendry was. She had already decided she wouldn't contact Gendry again. Ever. But although he'd done the one thing she'd told him she wouldn't tolerate; the deal breaker, she still wanted to know if he was all right. Jon's reply came back a few hours later.

'Sedated so haven't talked to him yet. They tell me he's ok. How r u?'

That was a relief and all she needed to know. She thought carefully about her reply. Eventually she sent back the shortest reply she could - 'ok' and didn't add her usual kiss at the end, as she certainly didn't feel like giving Jon a kiss. If her phone had had a little punching fist, she would have added that.

The next morning, she was woken by sunlight streaming through a gap in the curtains and some very unusual grunting and thumping sounds coming from the room next door. Arya staggered out of bed, wearing a cropped vest top and a pair of panties. It had been a hot summer night and the flat had no air conditioning.

"Brienne are you ok?" she inquired through her friend's closed door.

"Come in!" Brienne grunted back.

Brienne was wearing just a sports bra and a pair of manly shorts, as she jumped up from the floor, did a star jump, hunkered back down again, shot her legs out behind her and repeated the process. Arya watched with a kind of dreadful fascination as Brienne sweated and grunted with effort.

"What on earth are you doing?" Arya wondered.

"Burpees!" Brienne huffed back, stopping and panting as she looked at Arya in her vest and panties. "You should try some." She gasped, nodding to Arya's tummy. Arya looked at her soft, rounded belly and then at Brienne's six pack. It wasn't a bulging rack of muscles like Gendry had, but it was definitely there – an indicator of strength and tone lurking beneath the skin. Arya had always wanted a stomach like that pop singer Shakira – who didn't? Maybe Brienne could help her get it. After all, Arya didn't have much else to do with her time at the moment.

"Ok!" she answered breezily and, as Brienne started again, Arya copied her, only at about a quarter of the pace.

"Oh My God, this is hard!" Arya managed to gasp in between gulps of air.

"It'll get easier! Just don't stop!" Brienne urged, but after only a couple of burpees, Arya had to stop. She rested her arms on her hips and bent over, panting as Brienne finished another set.

"You're not very fit are you?" Brienne asked. Brienne had done way more than Arya and wasn't puffing nearly as much. Arya couldn't breath to answer, so just shook her head in agreement.

"Let's try The Plank then. That I'll give you a bit of a rest." Brienne suggested.

She showed Arya how to assume the position, balancing herself perfectly on her toes and elbows. Arya wobbled all over the place and lasted about three seconds before collapsing; face first, onto the floor with a loud 'Oooof!"

Brienne, back as straight as a rod, looked at her with pity. "Oh dear." Was all she said.

After a very health breakfast of porridge, banana and soya milk, Arya was about to go for a shower when Brienne asked if she wanted to join her for a run. Arya wasn't very enthusiastic, particularly as it had just been pointed out to her how unfit she was. Ok, she was slim and looked healthy, but a lack of any planned exercise in the last three years had obviously taken its toll.

"Look, if you don't come with me, I need to send one of the boys up to keep an eye on you. What would you prefer?" Brienne asked

"Ok, if you put it like that. I'll come."

Arya found a pair of, barely worn, trainers she'd bought years before. Brienne had all the proper day-glow lycra running gear and Arya felt a bit underdressed in a plain T shirt and her slouching around sweat pants. It was a beautiful morning and, as the two of them set off towards the park, Arya wondered why she'd never done this before.

It soon became very apparent that she hadn't done it before as, after a few streets, she couldn't continue to hold a conversation with Brienne as her breathing was too laboured. Arya was really embarrassed. When she had lived at Winterfell, she'd walked everywhere and when she hadn't been walking she had been running, but since moving to London it was all high heels and taxis.

"Let's walk for a while" Brienne offered, realising Arya was struggling to keep up. However, even Brienne's idea of 'walking' left Arya puffing for breath.

As they marched nearer to the park, the houses got bigger and the area became more exclusive. These Edwardian terraces hadn't been divided up into flats and were still individual dwelling houses, all beautifully maintained. There was a row of very expensive looking shops facing the park and, as they walked passed them, towards the park gates, Arya couldn't help but window shop. That would be the only kind of shopping she would be doing for a while, she thought miserably.

It was far too early for any of them to be open, but Arya saw a jewellery shop, a few boutiques selling varying styles of clothes, an upmarket hairdressers and an art gallery. Arya had passed this way many times before, usually in a taxi, and certainly never power walking, but she had never paid much attention to the gallery before, assuming it would only cater to the rich, uneducated tastes of the local residents.

The gallery was called 'The House of Black & White' and one window display was always predominantly black and the other white. Maybe the doors had never been shut before when she had passed. She certainly hadn't ever noticed that one door was darkest black, varnished wood and the other the palest, bare wood she had ever seen; so pale it was almost white. In the centre of each door was a mask; one crying face in black, one laughing face in white. Each mask was set in the door of the opposite colour. Arya recognised them as 'Comedy and Tragedy'; the symbols of the theatre. If the doors were striking, the window display blew her away. She stopped in her tracks and stared at the black themed window.

In the centre of the window was a tall, rectangular canvas, painted mostly in dark greys and black, of a man, with the head of a wolf, juggling eight silver moons in different phases. The full moon was top centre with the waxing and waning moons arranged around the wolf/man and the black disc of the new moon bottom centre, over the wolfman's heart. Arya had never been so affected by a piece of art before. Her heart was hammering in her chest and it wasn't being caused by physical exertion.

Brienne, who had kept on walking, doubled back to see what Arya was gawping at.

"OH. MY. GOD!" Brienne blurted out as she followed Arya's gaze.

"Do you think Renly would like it?" Arya managed to whimper.

"Are you kidding? Collecting art is one of his 'things'. I think some of the stuff he buys are just polished turds, but this….Oh my God, he'd love it! But why do you ask? Are you thinking of buying it for him?" Brienne joked.

"This painting has been in the window on and off since I moved here. I just never looked at it before. I mean I saw it, but I never _really_ _looked_ _at it_. I suppose it wouldn't have meant anything to me anyway before…before…well, you know…"

"Yeah, I know." Brienne agreed. It was the first time either of they had even obliquely discussed the Werewolf thing.

"Can you see any price on it?" Arya asked, peering in the window.

Brienne gave a long, low whistle.

"Look at that piece of card in the bottom left of the window. £120,000. That'll be why it's not sold."

"But do you think Renly would pay that?"

"Well, he's not short of a bob or two is he? And, to be honest, I think he'd probably pay _anything_ to have that."

"I think I just found my first job!"

"What?"

"Selling that painting to Renly!"


	16. Chapter 16 - What lurks inside?

**Chapter 16 **

**What lurks inside?**

**This chapter is dedicated to my good friend Eirenewbie, Queen of the Smut Monsters and, unbeknown to me, an Art History major. Whoops! So sorry Eirenewbie and every other Art Historian I offended in the last chapter. This one's for you…**

Beep. _Pause._ Beep. _Pause_. Beep. _Pause_. Beep. _Pause._ Beep.

Gendry slowly opened one eye. Where the fuck was he? Nowhere he had ever been before. The room was small and brilliantly white. He could hear a low electrical hum and that damn beeping. It sounded like something he'd heard recently, something he knew he didn't want to hear again.

He struggled to sit up, but it felt as if he was struggling through treacle. It was a hell of a lot of effort for not much movement and something was tugging at his left arm. He turned his head, through that treacle again, to see what it was. He saw a drip and a tube and a needle stuck in his arm.

_SHIT! His fucking Father, in the hospital and the drip and the heart monitor and the lies and the fucking bite._

Gendry collapsed back down on the bed again; screwing his eyes shut and listening to the heart monitor beep faster.

. . .Beep

No pauses now.

It sounded as panicked as he felt. Shit, what had happened to him?

His shoulder. His fucking Werewolf Father had bitten his shoulder. Gendry remembered seeing the huge yellow canines rip into his tattoo. Through the pain and the blood and the falling backwards, he remembered thinking, if he got through this, his tattoo, the one her got for _her _would be ruined. _Valar Morghulis_ no more.

He strained his neck to the other side, trying to see his ruined shoulder. He squinted at it. That couldn't be right – it looked normal. 'Valar' forming the top semi-circle, 'Morghulis' the bottom. It looked as if nothing had happened. He collapsed back on the bed again. What the hell was going on?

Just then, Renly burst into the room, closely followed by a nurse in a white cap and starched uniform, summoned no doubt by the beeping alarm.

Renly was bending over him, looking worried.

"Welcome back Gendry. Are you ok? Can you talk to me?"

Gendry opened his mouth to talk, but it was as dry as an old sand shoe and his tongue wasn't working properly. Renly moved out if his line of vision, to be replaced by the nurse holding a glass of water and a straw. He sucked greedily on the straw.

"Now, Lord Baratheon, not too much at one time - take it slowly." The nurse scolded.

_Lord Baratheon_? Shit! She was talking to him wasn't she? So it _had_ all happened. But what about his shoulder and where was he, and most importantly, where was Arya?

"Where's Arya?" he managed to whisper.

Renly appeared again, bending over him and grinning this time.

"So you're back! Great to see you nephew!" Renly laughed.

"Where's Arya?" Gendry repeated, trying to grab Renly's arm and missing.

"Calm down dear! You're at Storm's End and she's not here just now. Do you not remember she didn't want to come?" Renly smiled down at him.

_She didn't want to come. _

_She didn't want to come_.

He went over Renly's words in his mind, trying to remember what had happened and piece it all together.

When he closed his eyes he could see Arya, smiling and giggling; the way he loved her most. Why didn't she want to come? His head hurt. His arm hurt where the needle was. He could feel the sharp steel digging into his vein, but his shoulder didn't hurt and his ribs didn't hurt either. The constant pain in his side that had been bothering him for the past few days was gone. How long had he been out for? Long enough for his ribs and his shoulder to heal?

"How long?" he managed to stammer at Renly.

"Three days since the Board Meeting. You're Chairman of the Board now Lord Baratheon. How does that feel?"

Bloody Renly! Trust him to think about his fucking company at a time like this. He didn't care about bloody Baratheon Enterprises. He wanted Arya and _she hadn't wanted to come._ It was the bite! It was the motherfucking bite from his motherfucking father! He remembered now. That was why she wouldn't come and that was why she had slapped him. Christ he had deserved that! But he had to get to her now. He had to see her, had to explain!

He struggled to get up and only succeeded in lifting one shoulder a few inches off the bed. He fell back onto the pillows, exhausted, before trying to struggle up again.

"Easy tiger!" Renly laid a warm, heavy hand on his shoulder, pushing him gently back down onto the bed. He saw the nurse over Renly's shoulder, ready with another needle and that was the last thing he remembered.

-o-

Next time he woke up he knew Jon was there. He hadn't opened his eyes and he couldn't hear Jon's voice, but he _knew_ he was there, sitting beside the bed. That was weird. Why was he so sure it was Jon? Before he opened his eyes, to confirm whether what he _felt _was right, he took a few moments to think about why he knew this, _how _he knew it.

He could _smell_ Jon. That was weird. He couldn't remember ever smelling Jon before, but he knew, instinctively this was Jon's scent. It was the unique mixture of so many things that made Jon smell the way he did, and now he could analyse what they all were. He could smell the aftershave he wore. He had no idea what it was called and it was faint today, like it was clinging to his clothes as if Jon hadn't used it this particular morning. Toothpaste and cotton. He smelled sweat and a gym. Not a gym he was familiar with. This one smelled of leather and rubber and wood, but he _knew_ it was a gym. How the fuck did he know that?

His eyes sprang open and, sure enough, there was Jon, sitting on a chair beside his bed, staring out of the window, a sad, thoughtful expression on his face.

"Hey mate." Gendry managed to croak.

Jon jumped with surprise. Gendry heard and _felt_ Jon's pulse rate spike. Now that was _very fucking weird_.

"Oh! Hey yourself! You gave me a fright." Jon spluttered.

_I know I gave you a fright, I felt it._ Gendry thought to himself, _but how?_

"I've been sitting here so long with nothing happening; I didn't expect you to say something suddenly like that." Jon explained. Gendry heard Jon's heart rate slow again. He could have told Jon what his resting heart beat was if Jon had asked.

"Have you got a drink?" Gendry gasped. His mouth was as dry as that old sand shoe again.

Jon grinned.

"Yeah, I've got a drink here, but only water. You might have to wait a while for something stronger."

Jon held the glass and straw out to Gendry. He managed to sit up this time. Although he felt better than before, but there was still the unpleasant tugging in his arm and, as he sat up, he felt an unpleasant tugging somewhere else too.

"I need to go to the bathroom." Gendry muttered after taking a long drink.

"Er...dude, I don't think you need to worry about that just now." Jon stated, pulling a face as he said it.

"What do you mean?" Gendry stuttered. He was actually worrying about going to the bathroom now_. Right now_.

"Well…there's a bag here at my knee, full of what I think is your piss. I think you've got one of those catheter things."

"Shit!" Gendry exclaimed, yanking up the sheet to have a look at his dick. Sure enough there was tube coming out the end of his penis.

"No, not shit! Piss!" Jon couldn't resist joking.

"Get this thing off me!" Gendry yelped.

"Uh? What? You seriously expect me to touch that?" Jon asked.

"Not you, idiot! There was a nurse around here before. Can you get her? I want this fucking thing out my dick right now!"

"Ok, calm down! You must have it in for four days, so another few minutes aren't going to make much difference." Jon huffed.

Instead of going to find the nurse, he pressed a red button marked 'call'. It didn't make much of a noise, but the nurse appeared within moments.

"Is everything all right Jon? Lord Baratheon?" She smiled when she saw Gendry was awake.

"Get this fucking catheter thing out my dick so I can go to the bathroom!" Gendry yelled.

"Now there's no need for language like that Lord Baratheon. If you aren't prepared to be civil to me, I am certainly not prepared to help you!" the nurse snapped.

"Sorry." Gendry muttered sheepishly. "I'm just a bit traumatised by having a tube stuck up my _penis._" He couldn't resist putting a great emphasis on the anatomically correct word "…and call me Gendry for God's sake! Lord Baratheon is my fucking Father."

"_Was_ your father." Jon helpfully pointed out

"And I've told you already, that kind of language is not acceptable…Gendry." The nurse scolded.

"Sorry." Gendry muttered again.

"Thank you." The nurse replied primly. "Would you like to leave us for a while Jon?"

"Nah, I'd rather watch!" Jon said sarcastically, while getting up off his chair and heading for the door as quickly as he could.

The nurse had the sheet thrown back and one hand clamped firmly around Gendry's penis before Jon was even out of the room.

"For God's sake be gentle with that!" Gendry cried.

"**AAAAAAAAAAAAArgh!**"

After carefully disposing of the bag, tube and catheter, the nurse asked sweetly

"Would you like me to take the drip out of your arm now?"

Gendry couldn't even talk. He just nodded.

Soon the drip was out too and he was able to stagger to the bathroom. He promised himself he would never take pissing for granted ever again. There was a small shower in the room and, acutely aware that he stank of piss and stale sweat and some kind of nauseating medical disinfectant, he lurched into the shower and managed to stand up long enough to clean himself and wash his hair. He felt better already, but he was weak as water. He realised what the problem was – he was _starving._ No bloody wonder. He hadn't had anything to eat for days.

He wrapped a towel around his waist and found Jon and the nurse having a laugh when he staggered back into the room. He noticed for the first time that the nurse had red hair – ah, was Jon reverting to type again? Judging by the way the conversation stopped as soon as Gendry arrived, he concluded that they had been laughing at him, but he was too weak to care. He needed _food!_

"I've changed your sheets Lord Baratheon. You should be much more comfortable now you've got all those tubes out." The nurse patted the bed, expecting him to climb back into it.

"I've had enough of lying in bed! I want to go and get something to eat." Gendry declared.

"Dressed like that? I think you'd better put some clothes on first _big boy_!" Jon chuckled, then he and the nurse started laughing again, making Gendry think his dick had been the cause of the hilarity earlier on. Well, let them laugh, Jon was just jealous and that red headed nurse probably wanted some.

"You should go back to bed. I'll have something brought up from the kitchens." The nurse ordered, but when Gendry shook his head and grunted at her, she reluctantly found him some clothes. This time the nurse left the room, while Gendry struggled to dress himself. Eventually Jon had to help him put on his socks as the effort of trying was exhausting him.

"Are you sure you're up to this mate? Breakfast in bed doesn't sound so bad."

"What time is it anyway?" Gendry asked.

"4pm"

"Well, it's hardly breakfast time and it's too early for dinner, so maybe I should have something here after all. And what day is it?"

"Sunday."

"No way! Four days lost. I need to go and see Arya."

Gendry tried to stand up, only to find he had to sit straight back down again.

"You don't look too good mate" Jon offered.

"No shit!" Gendry replied sarcastically. "You try getting bitten by a Werewolf then spending the next four days unconscious with a needle up your dick, pissing into a bag!"

"Look, you can't go and see her just now, Renly won't let you and you know what trying to get out of this place is like – it's worse than Fort Knox. Anyway, she might not want to see you mate." Jon added apologetically.

"I suppose you're right… as usual." As soon as the words were out of Gendry's mouth he realised what he had said and shuddered.

"What's wrong mate?" Jon wondered, puzzled by the sudden, queasy look on Gendry's face.

"Did you just hear what I said? That's exactly what Renly says to Loras all the time."

"Really? I've never noticed." Jon commented, paying more attention to the red haired nurse who had just come back into the room than to Gendry.

"You don't think we will….that you and I could…"

"What?" Jon asked warily, becoming worried about where Gendry was going with this.

"End up like the two of them, do you?"

"What?!" John yelled. "You mean like gay? Seriously dude? You mean you and I like Renly and Loras…fuck off! No way!" Jon looked across at the nurse to see whether she was listening, _really_ hoping she hadn't heard what Gendry had just said.

Jon stood up and backed away from Gendry, trying to distance himself physically as well as verbally, from his best mate.

"No!" Gendry hissed. "I didn't mean that…"

Jon and Gendry both looked at the nurse, who was tidying up, picking Gendry's damp towel off the floor.

"Err…can I just have something to eat here please?" Gendry asked the nurse loudly.

"Of course Lord…Gendry." She smiled and left the room again. Jon and Gendry both watched her go, making sure she was well out of earshot before resuming their conversation

"And that reminds me!" Jon glared at Gendry "Was it your hand fondling my bollocks that night in The Dorchester?"

Gendry panicked. What the hell was he going to say? The only way to answer that was either with a 'yes' or 'no'. He'd never lied to Jon before but he'd never done anything that stupid before either.

"Errr…what do you mean?" he mumbled, trying to act nonchalantly and buy himself some thinking time.

"You know what I mean! Somebody was tickling my balls that night. I know it wasn't Arya, so it was either you or Danni and seeing as one of you is good at it and one of you isn't, I'm guessing it was YOU!" Jon angrily accused Gendry.

"So, before I answer, are you suggesting I was good at it or not?" Gendry asked in mock seriousness.

"Ah! I knew it! Don't ever fucking touch my balls again! And stop smirking! I mean it! That's just too fucking weird. If you want to be gay, just go and be gay with someone else and just leave my balls alone!"

"I'm not gay." Gendry felt compelled to declare, loudly and with feeling.

"Whatever." Jon grumbled. "Look, I need to go. I've got training again shortly with Loras and I don't want to miss it."

"Before you go, tell me about Arya." Gendry pleaded.

"Not much to tell mate. She text me once to see how you were and that's been all. I haven't heard from her since. I think she's pretty pissed at the two of us and anyway, I've been really busy learning this Krav Maga. Two hours, two times a day and I ache all over. I have to admit, Loras really knows his stuff and he's an excellent teacher. You're going to love it! It's like mixed martial arts, but the military grade version."

Gendry had stopped listening after Jon had mentioned that Arya was pissed off at them both. And she'd only been in touch once? And only by text? That wasn't good.

He had to fight the urge to phone her straight away, but that wouldn't be smart. What would he say? 'Sorry' wouldn't cut it. No, he would have to think about how he could make this up to her, how he could get her back. This was going to need a lot more than hearts and flowers. How about buying her a car like she was supposed to get for her 21st? Nah, she'd just moan about it being Renly's money again, like she had with the ring.

Shit! Were they still engaged? She hadn't thrown the ring back at him – that was something he supposed. God, he was going to have to come up with something really good if she was going to forgive him for this fuck up. Christ, this was the fuck up to end all fuck ups and he was going to have to pull a magic rabbit out the hat if he was going to fix this clusterfuck.

-o-

When he woke up the next morning, he opened one eye to check where he was. Phew. His own bed, well his own bed in Storm's End - the nearest thing he had to 'home'. He reached across the bed to the remote control that let sunlight stream into the room and let him see it sparkling on the sea outside. God, Arya loved that view. God, he wished she was here with him just now.

He had an erection he could have stirred tar with. It was as if his cock was saying 'hey there, stupid, remember me? You've ignored me for five days and you let that nurse stick a needle in me and I'm not going to let you forget about be until you pay me some attention!'

He stroked his cock lovingly, slowly moving his foreskin back and forward. Thank God that nurse hadn't inflicted any lasting damage. Reassured that his prized member was all right and ready for action, he stepped up the pace. Man that felt good! Arya where are you when I fucking need you girl?

He closed his eyes and flicked through his mental wank bank of Arya images. He settled on the one where she had those black suspenders and stockings on and those big french knickers. But then he imagined the black suspenders and stockings and no big knickers. That was even better. He visualised the top of the stockings, where black silk met creamy skin, the crease under her bare arse cheek. Perfect! She was scrabbling away from him across their bed, but he'd caught her ankle and dragged her back towards him. Yeah! He had unfinished business with that image. He wanted her crouched underneath him, sticking that fucking amazing arse up in the air, spreading the cheeks of her arse apart for him. He wanted to fuck her and bite her. Yeah, bite her neck as he fucked her. Bite and fuck. He was tugging his cock hard and fast, breath sawing and Arya baby, he wasn't going to last much longer. Oh Arya, yeah, oh, oh, oh. Fuck yeah.

He jerked forward as he came and felt a huge load of hot jizz shoot all over his stomach and chest.

God, he'd needed that. He opened his eyes to reach for the box of tissues. _Christ! His hand! What the fuck had happened to his hand?_

It was black, covered in coarse black hair and instead of nails there were sharp, black claws. He yelled in shock and horror. He looked down at his chest. The jizz was lying on top of a thick, black pelt of hair. Not hair – _fur_!

He scrambled out of bed, needing to see himself in the mirror; unexpectedly four feet landed on the floor. Christ! Four _feet,_ not two feet and two hands. His feet, his claws scrabbled and slid on the polished wood, floor, trying to find purchase and skidding helplessly and erratically across the room. All four legs scrabbling at once, he, somehow, made it to the bathroom and thank God he hadn't shut the door. He jumped, resting two hands, no, not hands - paws, on the mirror above the sink and came face to face with his new self. Unfamiliar eyes, burning orange stared back at him from a huge, black wolf's head, snarling, lips pulled back exposing vicious teeth in a supernatural imitation of human fear. He recoiled in shock and horror, whimpering and whining sounds, noises he'd never heard before, never made before, coming from his throat.

Eventually curiosity got the better of him and he had to look again.

Gendry Waters, meet Lord Baratheon the fucking Werewolf!

He managed to scramble into the shower and paw at the controls. As freezing cold water rained down upon him, upon _it_, he watched in fascinated disbelief as the paw, _his_ paw, shrunk and the digits separated, claws retracting, fingers straightening, to reveal his hand again. The hair, fur, pelt, whatever the hell it was, disappeared and he looked down at his own chest, with a smattering of fine black, human hair, his cock, his legs, his feet. Thank God…feet!

Dripping wet he lurched out of the shower to look in the mirror and he was Gendry again. Dripping wet, plain old Gendry Waters and thank God for that!

He had to find Renly and find out what the hell was happening to him.

-o-

Gendry stood at the bottom of the grand staircase wondering which way to go. There was no-one around to ask where Renly could be found. In a castle the size of Storm's End, he could wander around for an hour and still never find Renly, assuming he was even here at all. He went to check his watch for the time. No watch. He must have left it in London. Damn. He'd need to ask Renly if the Dorchester had found it. He checked his phone. 9.30 am. Damn. If Renly was going to London he would have left hours ago.

Gendry stood, undecided at the bottom of the stairs. He supposed he could phone Renly or Jon, assuming either of them had their phones with them; Jon was notorious for not bothering with his. Then he had another idea. Let's see if this new super sense of smell could help him. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. The sheer number of smells was overwhelming. He opened his eyes and looked around. No, nothing had changed. It was as if, with his eyes open, he was relying solely upon his eyesight to guide him, but when he shut his eyes, deprived his brain of its vision feed, suddenly a myriad of smells were accessible.

He tried again. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. This time he held the air in his lungs, trying to process this new information. He exhaled and the same smells and tastes, flowed again over his new, highly attuned olfactory receptors. Filter out the household smells; the polish, the food, the candles, the odours of multiple inanimate objects and focus on the living. _Focus_. He inhaled again. Where was Renly, or Jon?

He smelled human, but it wasn't either of them. The scent didn't mean anything to him, probably one of the household staff. Inhale again. _Focus_. One of them had to be here somewhere. Exhale again. Ahhhh. Yes! Jon! He'd found it; Jon's scent. It was faint and mingled with fresh air and leather and those gym smells that had left their mark on Jon yesterday. He was sure Jon was in the gym, but where the hell was the gym? He didn't remember ever seeing one. How was he going to find the gym? Oh yeah - just follow your nose, stupid!

Jon's scent was being brought to him on a current of fresh air, but it wasn't coming from the front doors. As he literally followed his nose, he began to smell something else too. It was a familiar smell, but one that irritated and annoyed him. It took him a few minutes to work out that it was Loras's scent he'd caught. Jon and Loras were apparently in the gym together.

His nose didn't steer him wrong. Eventually, in what must have been, a tower annexe to the castle, he found them.

_Wow! _

Gendry wasn't easily impressed by design, architecture and all that stuff, but Renly had out done himself with this. The 'gym' was kitted out with the best of gear, all gleaming, Olympic grade stuff. That was to be expected. What he hadn't expected were the surroundings. There were four glass walls to the gym, and the ceiling – well, there was no ceiling. It was open to the sky. Closer inspection revealed retractable glass roof panels, which were open now, letting the morning sun flood in. On the level above was a terrace, which was also open to the sky. A few ornate benches and what looked and smelled like orange and lemon trees were placed at strategic points around the terrace. He saw a member of staff wander by up there, clutching a bundle of papers and disappear off into the depths of the castle. All he could think of was – Arya would love it. It might even encourage her to work out with him.

Jon and Loras were going through some moves. Jon was grabbing Loras around the neck from behind and Loras seemed to be showing him how to break the hold. They repeated the hold and break a few times, oblivious to Gendry watching them. Eventually he grew bored of watching and decided to interrupt. HeH

He had to walk 90 degrees around the glass wall to find a door into the gym. Only when he opened the door did Jon notice him. Jon looked up and started to say something and in doing so broke his concentration, allowing Loras complete the move. Fast as lightening, Jon was hauled over Loras's shoulder to land flat on his back on the mat with a loud 'Oooooof'.

"Now I've got you just where I want you!" Loras leered down at Jon, lying stunned at his feet.

Gendry wouldn't have been entirely surprised if Loras had thrown himself down on top of Jon's prostrate body and started trying to fuck him on the floor. This heightened sense of smell was giving Gendry another dimension of insight into people's behaviour and motives – just as Renly had said it would. What were the exact words Renly had used again?

"_Emotions are as easy for us to read as sign posts"_

Right now Loras had a great big sign over his head saying 'I want Jon's cock'. Gendry had to stifle a laugh, God he was going to be able to have some fun with this.

"Hi Jon, Hi Loras. I'm just looking for Renly – you remember him Loras? Your partner, your other half, love of your life." Gendry smirked.

"What the fuck do you want Gendry and stop talking shit." Loras growled.

Loras's heart rate never wavered, but Gendry saw his eyes narrow slightly. God, he was good at controlling himself. Gendry knew his own heart was thumping with the adrenaline caused by his verbal sparring with Loras.

"If you're staying, make yourself useful. Here!" Loras threw a large rubber knife at Gendry. He caught it easily without even having to look directly at it. _Hmmm. Interesting._ Peripheral vision seemed to be heightened too.

"Gendry attack Jon. Jon, see if you can disarm him." Loras ordered.

Jon was by now back on his feet and grinning at Gendry. Gendry grinned back. This would be easy. The two of them had been friends since childhood and they regularly worked out together. To Gendry this was simply a matter of size. He was bigger and stronger than Jon and had a longer reach, considerably longer if you counted the five inch rubber blade. If it was a real knife he would have Jon's hands and arms cut to ribbons before Jon could even touch him. Gendry raised the knife and watched Jon crouch into a defensive stance. '_Fat lot of good that will do you_' Gendry thought smugly.

He circled Jon before bring the knife down in a swinging, stabbing arc.

The knife was out of his hand and he was staggering backwards before he knew what had happened. What _had _happened?

Loras crowed with laughter.

"That was pathetic Waters! My grandmother could move faster than that!"

Seething at Lora's insult, Gendry picked the rubber knife up from where it had landed, three feet away.

Right, this time he would be ready for Jon. He'd been taken by surprise before, but not this time. The circled each other again and Gendry fully intended to wipe that smug look off Jon's face. He didn't signal his attack this time by raising the knife, instead he lunged at Jon, driving the knife upwards. Again it was knocked from his hand and he was propelled backwards.

He had, at least, seen what had happened that time. Jon had simultaneously blocked his strike with a powerful chop to his wrist, making him drop the knife, while punching him square in the chest with his other fist. A two pronged attack he hadn't anticipated.

"This technique is called 'bursting'. Effective isn't it?" Jon smirked.

Loras was beside himself with glee, revelling in his protégés two easy victories.

"Come on Waters! Don't make me go and get my Granny to show you how it's done! Old Olenna Redwyne could kick your bastard arse!" Loras jeered.

Gendry felt his heart pumping and his blood boiling as Loras's taunts rang in his ears. He'd show that arsehole Loras. The rubber knife would find its target this time.

He glared at his opponent. Gendry felt his face burn with wounded pride. He snarled at Jon, determined not to be beaten again. Jon didn't look so fucking cocky now, but he crouched back into the same defensive stance. Again they circled each other, every muscle tensed and ready. Gendry tried a few feints, left and right, then left again, but Jon wasn't easily deceived and was always ready for him.

Loras was maintaining his relentless mocking commentary from the sidelines

"You move like a pregnant cow Waters! Where's my Granny? You're slower than a week in jail…"

Rage was building and multiplying in Gendry. Summoning all his strength, he launched himself at Jon, full weight behind the strike, only to find his wrist caught in midair.

_Who dared try and stop him?_

Gendry whirled to see Loras blocking his attack, his eyes burning with Werewolf fire.

"Look at yourself!" Loras growled.

Gendry glanced from Loras's orange eyes to his own wrist, pinned in mid air by Loras. Only it wasn't _his_ wrist; _his_ hand, it was the wolf's; cruel black nails scything downwards, ready to rip his victim apart.

Loras exerted more pressure on Gendry's wrist with steely fingers, causing Gendry to wince with pain.

"What would have happened if that blow had connected? Jon would be dead you stupid fuck!" Loras snarled "Until you can control yourself, you're not safe to be around!" Loras shoved Gendry's wrist away in disgust.

Jon straightened up and backed away from Gendry, looking warily at friend, as if he didn't recognise him.

What had he done? Gendry couldn't believe he had almost unleashed The Wolf on his best mate – the man who had saved his and Arya's life, only the week before.

"_It was your fault Loras! You provoked me!_" Gendry cried, trying to justify his actions.

"Oh yeah? And what happens if Littlefinger provokes you in the boardroom or Arya provokes you in the bedroom? What happens then? Are you going to bleat that it was all Arya's fault when you gut her from sternum to cunt?" Loras spat the words into Gendry's face, goading him even more.

Gendry did his best to regulate his breathing, to stand and listen while Loras lectured and berated him, but it was so hard. He was fighting to control his temper, fighting to stop himself ripping that smug look off Loras's face once and for all.

"We're brothers now – whether you like it or not! We're all the same pack and if you fuck this up or if you shift in front of anyone, they'll find out about us all and I'm not going to let _you_ take Renly or me down with you!"

Loras spat on the floor at Gendry's feet, in a display of anger and contempt.

Gendry couldn't reply. He could only stand and glare at Loras, barely controlled resentment boiling up inside him.

"You need me if you're going to learn how to control this, otherwise you'd better say goodbye to your mate here and that pretty little fiancé of yours." Loras snarled.

"Come on Jon. Lesson over for today."

Loras strode out of the gym, while Jon stopped to pick up his sweatshirt.

"You'd better get your shit together Gendry! And fast." Jon hissed as he followed Loras.

Gendry was left alone to think about Arya and the Werewolf inside him, struggling to get out.


	17. Chapter 17-A strange lunch with Sansa

**CHAPTER 17**

**A very strange lunch with Sansa**

**Hi, I'm baaaaack! I missed this, even if no-one else did! I've been away writing a smutty Sansa story (I know – I never intended to, but inspiration ambushed me). I won't leave this story for so long again as it's my baby and before I finish it I've still got to write about Aegon, Cersi, Jaquen, Robert's funeral and Robb's wedding as well as the Alpha Werewolf ! Hopefully it's going to be great and I'll get back to posting every Friday ASAP. So here we go again and, as I've been writing Sansa elsewhere I thought it was time to let her redeem herself here…**

The café Sansa had chosen was, of course, the newest, most chic place for the poor little rich girls about town to lunch. It was trying achingly hard to be Parisian, with little tables on the pavement, a dove grey interior and a menu in French. Arya thought it was pretentious as hell, but then, that was Sansa.

She and Brienne had been dropped off by one of the black Baratheon security cars. The only positive thing Arya could say about the whole close protection experience (other than meeting Brienne of course) was that had done away with all of her taxi bills.

Brienne had only told Arya in the car on the way there that she had some other, urgent business to attend to, so Loras was going to take over for the rest of the afternoon. While Arya didn't relish the thought of having lunch with the Head of Baratheon Security and Sansa, she was worried that Brienne had a personal problem to deal with. However, Brienne wouldn't elaborate on what her urgent business was.

Loras was already waiting for them and climbed out of a black Range Rover as they walked towards the café. The weeks of sunny weather had finally broken and it had been raining all morning, but Loras still had his aviator sunglasses on. He wore his usual uniform of sharp black suit, crisp white shirt and skinny black tie. As Brienne and Loras exchanged a few words, Arya sat down at a free table outside.

Brienne got into the Ranger Rover Loras had just left and it screeched away. Arya wondered again what Brienne had to attend to that was so urgent.

"Too exposed. We sit inside." Loras decreed as he strode over to Arya's table.

She thought about arguing, but knew it was pointless. So she stood up as he held the café door open for her. A bell on the etched glass door tinkled and two dozen pairs of designer sunglasses turned to see if they were worth acknowledging. Arya cursed under her breath. This was exactly the kind of place she hated.

They obviously weren't deemed to be worthy of attention as everyone immediately turned back to their waspish conversations, with the exception of two arty, media type guys with open laptops and screamingly tight jeans who watched them walk to the counter. _Watched Loras_, she thought.

The two Baristas; a boy and a girl, could easily have been models; God, they probably were models. They wore ankle length starched white aprons over their black, designer clothes and had an attitude that wouldn't have been out of place in any Café by the Seine.

As the two of them stood in line, Loras leant his elbow on the tall, glass display cabinet, artfully displaying various croissants, pain au chocolat, éclairs, and macaroons. Arya presumed they were only for decoration as none of the clientele looked as if they ate any carbs. Ever.

"Nice place. Do you come here often?" Loras asked sarcastically.

Arya was about to tell him to 'piss off', but seeing as they had to spend the rest of the afternoon together and as that's _exactly_ what Gendry would have said, she smiled sweetly instead.

"It's my sister's choice. Sansa likes places like this. You'll understand when you meet her."

"She's a friend of Margaery's isn't she?"

Arya nodded.

"Enough said." Loras snorted.

"You sound just like a disapproving big brother. I know that tone well enough."

The two of them smiled, finding some common ground.

"I left home when she was ten and still cute" Loras sighed. "The next time I saw her she'd turned into Little Miss Attitude and it's just got worse. What _really_ pisses me off, is that she doesn't _do anything _and doesn't seem to want to do anything with her life either." He groaned in an exasperated, big brother type way.

Arya started to feel even more uncomfortable. She knew exactly what Loras meant. Sansa and all her friends were the same. Waiting around for Mr Right, who also had to be Mr Rich, to marry them and start picking up their bills instead of Daddy. Arya knew she had been heading in the same direction until her Daddy had stopped her credit card. She hoped Loras was going to pay for lunch. He'd _need_ to pay for it, or else they wouldn't be eating.

"But I don't think Jon's the disapproving big brother type is he?" Loras grinned.

Arya had to admit Loras was very handsome when he lost that perma-bored expression; devastatingly handsome actually. She dragged her thoughts back to his question

"No, Jon's not like that at all, but then he's not my brother is he?"

Loras arched an eyebrow inquisitively. When Arya didn't elaborate, Loras pressed

"So Renly's theory was right? Did Lord Stark confirm it?"

Arya nodded. She hadn't had a chance to discuss it with anyone and just thinking about her Father and Jon and Winterfell brought all the pain and unresolved problems back. She didn't know what Sansa had been told and she had wanted to discuss some of it with her today (although obviously not the Werewolf bit as she knew her father would certainly not have told Sansa about that). While she wouldn't have minded having a conversation about her family in front of Brienne – as she trusted Brienne – she wouldn't be having that sort of conversation with bloody Loras listening in.

The Barista called 'Next!' and she watched Loras as he ordered their two coffees and paid with one of those bloody Baratheon metal credit cards. It had the usual effect. The model type guy, who took it from Loras, turned it over admiringly in his hands, before smiling so broadly at Loras that Arya thought the guy's face might crack. She remembered again what Jon had said about money not mattering to her because she had it. Well now she didn't have it, and she had to admit it was occupying her thoughts rather more than she would have liked.

Loras carried their coffees to an empty table as far away from the others as possible. When Arya started to sit down on the nearest chair he quickly said "Not there. I need to be able to see the door." So she moved round as he pulled another chair out for her to sit on. Once she'd sat down, he didn't so much push the chair in as lift it up with her on it and place it down so her knees were under the table. Arya wondered if that was Werewolf strength or just him.

The two of them sat, stirring their coffees, with Loras keeping an eye on the door.

"She'll be late you know. She's always late." Arya muttered.

"So is Margaery." He sighed, taking his aviator sunglasses off and placing them carefully on the table between them. He paused, before asking

"So Arya, how have you been?"

He looked straight into her eyes as he spoke. He had the most amazing, golden eyes that seemed to be able to penetrate her thoughts. He'd never been remotely interested in her wellbeing before and suddenly Arya realised The Head of Baratheon Security wasn't here just to cover Brienne's shift. He was here for a reason. Brienne didn't have anything urgent to attend to and Loras wanted something.

"Fine." She mumbled, staring into her coffee, not wanting to have to meet those probing golden eyes.

"_Fine_." He echoed thoughtfully. "I have to admit I'm surprised that you're '_fine_', after the couple of weeks you've had. The things you've seen could really fuck with a person's head."

"What is this Loras? Some kind of psychoanalysis debriefing thing?" she snapped.

"Hmm. Why would you think that? I'm just _concerned_ about you Arya."

"Yeah? And what makes you give a shit all of a sudden?"

"Don't be like that Arya." He chided. "I like my family happy, healthy and safe. _I give a shit because we're all family now."_

Arya looked at him blankly. _Family?_ What the hell was he talking about?

Seeing the puzzled look on her face, he sighed deeply before continuing

"Let me explain; Gundry's part of my pack now. I don't think it's any secret that he and I have had our differences, but we need to put that behind us now. We're stronger together. We _need _each other. To misquote Aristotle; '_The Pack is greater than the sum of its parts_.' And I don't need him mooching around like a lovesick cub as that's going to affect _me_. Affect _us_."

Loras leaned back, fixing those knowing eyes on her again.

"He's a stupid, bull headed bastard boy and he can go and join all The Packs he wants. It means nothing to me." Arya said defiantly. She clenching her jaw and hoped she sounded more confident than she felt.

"So why are you still wearing his ring?" Loras smirked, nodding to the huge diamond sparkling under the café's lights. Arya immediately shoved her hand under the table. Shit! She hadn't wanted the bloody ring when Gendry had given it to her, but now she'd found she couldn't take it off. The problem was not that she couldn't _physically_ take it off, but she'd made all sorts of excuses to herself as to _why _she couldn't. She didn't know if it was insured and she didn't want to risk losing it. She didn't know if she was expected to give it back to him or if she could keep it, in which case she could go to a jeweller and sell it. She had even told herself she had to wear it as she didn't have a ring box to put it in. They all seemed pretty pathetic excuses when faced with Loras' simple question.

"Because I can't get it off." She lied. She wanting to add 'and why don't you mind your own bloody business', but she was a bit too intimidated by him to be that cheeky. The whole conversation so far had been like a cross examination by a big brother – a big brother who thinks he's always right.

"Ok. _So you can't get it off_." He mimicked.

Arya felt herself getting annoyed. Very annoyed.

"Well, here's another thing for you to consider; _Jon's next_." He said smugly, lacing his hands behind his head, elbows outstretched, smirking at her with that bloody arrogant expression that annoyed Gendry so much. It was beginning to have the same effect on her. She wanted to scream at him that he was wrong - that Jon would never do it; but she already knew he would. Jon knew everything she did – knew what their father – _her _father - had said about the curse that afflicted their family. Jon had already accidentally killed someone, but after all that, he'd still left the hospital with Loras and Gendry to go to Storm's End.

"Where do your loyalties lie Arya? Where's your future? With Jon – who you love _more_ than a brother and Gendry – whose ring you're still wearing, or with the Starks who have disowned you; left you with nothing."

Arya glared at him, wanting to defend her family, but finding it impossible in the circumstances. Her Father _had _disowned her.

"You need to admit to yourself that The Wolf is in your blood Arya. You _want _this. You were _born _for this, just as Lyanna was and all those generations of Starks before you." He flashed that devastating smile again and, just for an instant, his eyes flashed that supernatural orange.

"_I don't want it! I don't want anything to do with it, or you or Him!_"

"Really? Are you sure? Well, maybe you'll want _this_ in the meantime. Call it a gift from Renly"

Arya didn't see where it appeared from, but Loras was rolling one of those shiny, metal Baratheon credit cards through his fingers, as if he was a magician performing a card trick.

"It's got your name on it and no limit. It's yours if you want it - after all, you are family now."

He stopped twirling it through his fingers and held it out to her.

It would be so easy to take it, slip it into her purse, to carry on with her old life – the only difference being that the Baratheons rather than the Starks would be financing it.

Before she could answer, the bell on the cafe door tinkled again and they both looked up to see Sansa walk in. As usual she looked stunning; giant sun glasses on top of her head, pushing back her long auburn hair, the latest huge designer bag over her shoulder, designer dress emphasising her curvy figure and skyscraper platform heels.

As usual, Arya felt like she should have made more of an effort; WAY more of an effort. She plastered a false smile to her face, to hide the fact that she was still livid with Loras for thinking he could _buy her_. He had made the metal card disappear again, as mysteriously as it had appeared.

Sansa shrieked "Arya darling!" as she wobbled over to them. Loras immediately stood up and Arya reluctantly did the same, knowing what was coming next. Sure enough, Sansa clutched both of her shoulders, lunged towards her and dramatically air kissed her on each cheek.

Loras held out his hand. Sansa accepted it with a coy smile, batting her long false eyelashes at him as he introduced himself, simply as "Loras".

"Sansa Stark" she purred.

"I know." he smirked.

Arya rolled her eyes.

The three of them sat down, with Sansa immediately leaning forward towards Loras, resting her chin on her dainty hand, staring at him.

"You've kept him well hidden little Sis!" Sansa scolded Arya, while pouting at Loras.

"Have I?" Arya asked innocently. "I think you should complain to Margaery then as he's _her _big brother!"

"Really!?" Sansa gasped, immediately turning her attention to Arya. "He's Loras _Tyrell_?"

"Yeah. Really." Arya drawled sarcastically.

"Why didn't she introduce me before?" Sansa huffed.

"Probably because she_ likes_ him!" Arya couldn't resist the opportunity to get a dig in at her sister.

"Oh Meow!" Sansa replied cattily. "Just because you're loved up doesn't mean the rest of us have to go without." She winked at Loras, who rolled his eyes again.

"I'm not loved up! And the reason you've probably not met him before is that he was in The Army and…"

"Royal Air Force!" Loras interjected.

Arya pulled a face.

"Ok. Air Force. But I thought the SAS was The Army?"

"Special _**Air**_Services" Loras lectured, rolling his eyes yet again. _Same difference_ Arya thought. Who cared if it was the Army or Air Force? Honestly, he was like a _very_ grumpy big brother.

"Oooooh, SAS! I like the sound of that!" Sansa giggled to Arya.

"Harrumph. You would." Arya moaned. "He …err…he works with Gendry's uncle at Storm's End and anyway he's not your type."

"Why not? Badass older guys are _exactly_ my type!"

"Ladies, I'm still sitting here" Loras reminded them dryly.

"Of course you are honey." Sansa purred, turning her megawatt smile back to Loras and flicking her hair suggestively.

"So are you two an item then?" she wondered, changing tack.

"No!" they both exclaimed simultaneously. Arya blushed, embarrassed at having been so quick to disassociate herself from any romantic involvement with Loras and also a little hurt that he wasn't a bit more gallant about her.

"He's just… looking after me today." Arya muttered.

"Hmm, I like the sound of _that _too. And is that a gun in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?" she whispered breathily to him, staring at the bulge under his jacket.

"It's a gun Sansa. It's definitely a gun." He smirked.

"For God's sake! Will you just stop it Sansa?!" Arya moaned, burying her face in her hands to hide her embarrassment.

"OH MY GOD!" Sansa gasped, finally noticing Arya's ring.

"Didn't you know? Gendry and Arya are engaged!" Loras grinned at Arya as she squirmed. "She's going to be Lady Baratheon of Storm's End."

"How could you not tell me?!" Sansa shrieked, drawing the attention of most of the other people in the cafe. "Oh my God! It's gorgeous and so big! I never thought you'd go for something as _bling_ as that!"

"I didn't" Arya snapped. "Renly chose it."

"Hold on a minute!" Loras interrupted "I was there and it was definitely Gendry's choice."

"Really? You were in Cartier when they bought it?"

"_Cartier_" Sansa sighed wistfully.

"When _Gendry_ bought it." Loras confirmed.

"Oh." Arya muttered, looking at the ring again. She didn't doubt Renly had _paid_ for it, but she was rather taken aback that Gendry had picked it out for her. What made him choose this one she wondered? God, they'd never even discussed it.

"I'll get more coffee shall I? Let you Ladies discuss the engagement?" Loras suggested, winking at Arya, who glared back.

"Same again Arya?" She nodded. "And for you Sansa?"

"I'll take whatever you've got." She purred, looking up at him through her unbelievably long eyelashes and licking her lips suggestively.

"Two skinny soya lattes then" he groaned, standing up.

"Oh. My. God! " Sansa panted, watching him go to the counter. "He moves like a panther. I'd like a piece of that!"

"For God's sake! I can't believe you! You were throwing yourself at him." Arya scowled.

"Was I?" Sansa asked innocently, eyes still following Loras' retreating arse.

"You know you were!" Arya said accusingly.

"Ok, I was. But you've got to admit he's bloody gorgeous. Don't you think he looks like Brad Pitt in that movie…what was it again? You know the one where he's the assassin?"

"Mr & Mrs Smith." Arya sighed. She had already had the same conversation with Gendry and Jon and Daenerys.

"But you can forget it. He's taken _and_ he's gay."

"Really?" Sansa gasped. "What a waste! But he's too pretty for me anyway. I like them a bit rougher."

"You are unbelievable! I suppose you mean that close protection guy of Joffrey's."

"Yah" Sansa sighed wistfully, gazing into the middle distance.

"I've actually seen him a few times recently."

"Where? When…I mean how?" Sansa cried, grabbing Arya's arm, suddenly very interested in what Arya had to say.

"It's a long story, but the Baratheons have history with the Lannisters and he's been following me, I mean Gendry. Oh…both of us."

"I need to see him again. I need to know if I'd feel the same about him if I saw him again. Oh Arya, I've dreamt about him so often that I don't know if I'm remembering what he's really like or just my fantasy of him." She sighed dreamily

"Why don't you just arrange to meet him again then and find out?"

"Oh right. It's like that simple isn't it?" Sansa moaned sarcastically. "He's not on facebook, in the phone book, I don't have his number, so short of phoning Joffrey up and asking for it, I'm stuck. And I'm _not _going to do that before you suggest it! So it's unrequited love." She sighed dramatically.

"Love or lust?" Arya sniggered.

"So you've shagged one guy and you're the expert now?"

"One guy more than you!" Arya exclaimed "But I think he'd do you good. You need someone who won't indulge you, won't put up with … with…_all your shit!_"

Sansa pulled a face. "And what exactly do you mean by that?!" she shot back haughtily.

"I mean the hair extensions, the air kisses, all this "Yah!" speak, the fake nails, the bloomin' fake eyelashes, _the fake everything! _Is that you Sansa? Is my sweet sister still there under all that …all that _stuff_? I bet you can't even do your embroidery with those fake nails. When was the last time you stitched something? Go on – tell me!"

"Years ago" Sansa muttered.

"But you used to _love_ it Sansa. What happened to you?"

"What happened to me? _What happened to you Arya?_ Look at you - sitting there wearing that big diamond ring, bodyguards following you everywhere! And now you're going to be _Lady Baratheon of Storm's End._ How did that happen? How did _you_ get everything _I _ever wanted?"

"_It's not what I wanted!_ And anyway I'm not going to marry him." She moaned.

"Yah, Right." Sansa sniffed. "Here - I need to give you this before Loras comes back."

She dug around in her huge handbag before bringing out a co-coordinating leather purse and taking a wad of notes from it. She handed them over to Arya.

"Robb told me to give you this. He says you'll need it and you've to phone him. He said he needs to talk to you. What's going on Arya? Why does Robb think you need cash?"

"It's a long story" Arya sighed "and I don't want to tell you about it in front of you-know-who" she gestured to Loras who was just picking up the three coffees.

"Ok. Yah. You don't want Margaery to find out. Tell me later then."

The two of them sat in silence, until Loras returned.

"What's this girls? Exhausted all the gossip already? Do you want me to phone Margaery? Find out what's new?"

They both glared at him. He sat down, smirking.

"You'll need to try a bit harder on your girl's night out next Friday."

"Whaaat?" Arya spluttered

"I was going to tell you today." Sansa huffed. "We've got the first bridesmaid's dress fitting next Friday, 2 o'clock, then dinner and drinks. You haven't got anything else on have you?"

"No" Arya had to admit, reluctantly. She didn't have anything else on for the next…ooh…forever.

"But how come _he_ knows about it before _me_?"

Sansa shrugged. Loras smirked.

"Information's my job Arya." He reminded her coolly, before explaining "Margaery's staying at Storm's End until the funeral – she was telling Renly _all _about it last night. He's hoping for an invite to the wedding – if you could put in a good word."

"He can have my invite. I won't be going now."

"Of course you're still going!" Sansa declared, grabbing Arya's hand to emphasise the point "Robb's already laid down the law with Mum and Dad. Gendry's still the best man and you're a bridesmaid, no matter what!"

Arya felt sick. She'd forgotten all about the wedding with all the other stuff that was going on. Brienne had told her she'd have to go to the funeral and now she'd have to see Him at the wedding too. Her stomach tied itself in a knot. She had hoped she might be able to avoid Him at his Father's funeral, but the wedding was going to force them together again and she wasn't ready to face Him yet. She wanted to put some time and distance between them, get her head straight, but it didn't look like she was going to get the chance.

"OH. MY. GOD." Gasped Sansa suddenly, looking over Loras' shoulder. She jumped up off her chair and teetered off in her high heels.

"Where's she going?" Arya asked, craning her neck to see what her sister was up to.

"Probably seen some other Sloane Ranger she's got to chat to. Now where were we? Ahhh, yes – this card." Loras again produced the silver rectangle of metal and, this time, slid it across the table to Arya, tapping it twice before lifting his fingers off and leaving it there, sitting gleaming, on the table in front of her. "Just think of it as a welcome gift from The Pack." he coaxed.

Again Arya was tempted. What if Renly didn't buy the painting? She'd have no money and no job. And what if he _did _buy the painting? She'd be taking Baratheon money anyway. Just as she was about to reach for it, she remembered Winterfell and what her Father had said to her as she'd got out of Gendry's bloody Aston Martin with Jon,

"_It looks like prostituting yourself to the Baratheons pays well_"

"No thanks Loras. I told Gendry the bite was a deal breaker and I meant it. I'm not joining The Pack and anyway, I'm going to get a job."

Loras snorted. "I know what the deal is with that painting. Are you really so naive as to think Brienne doesn't report _everything_ back to me? So you think you're above taking the credit card, but you'll still take your cut of Renly's money from the sale of that painting. Smacks of double standards don't you think Miss Stark? It's still Baratheon money after all."

Arya opened her mouth, then shut it again, unable to find anything to say. What could she say to that? She simply hadn't thought of it like that. Renly would love the painting – wouldn't he? All she was doing was facilitating the transaction. Shit. She felt her face flush. Damn Brienne. Loras was right; she _had_ been that naive. Bloody Loras always seemed to be bloody right.

He sat across the table, smirking at her, waiting for her to say something.

Sansa chose that moment to return. Arya looked up to see her sister, face flushed, eyes shining, a beautiful smile lighting up her face. Arya automatically smiled back, she hadn't seen Sansa look so happy in a long time. But then Arya caught sight of the man immediately behind her - it was Joffrey's close protection man.

It only took a few seconds for Arya to take in his size, the raincoat he was wearing and the Australian bushman's rain hat in his huge hands. She hadn't seen him up close before and she shuddered involuntarily at the sight of his burned, scarred face. It took Loras even less time. He was up out of his chair; hand on the gun under his jacket in an instant.

"Woah!" the Lannister man cried, dropping his hat and holding his hands up, just as if he was in a cowboy movie. Sansa's beatific smile had disappeared immediately she realised Loras was reaching for his gun. She and Arya were rooted to the spot as the men seized each other up, the air between them thick with tension and the threat of bloody violence. Loras wasn't fully erect, he was still in half crouch and had put himself between Arya and the potential threat. His hand was on his gun, ready to draw it like an old fashion gun slinger. Arya's eyes flicked to his other hand, balled into a fist, ready to strike.

The Lannister man slowly extended one hand to Loras

"I'm unarmed. Purely surveillance." He muttered under his breath, so quietly Arya could hardly hear. Loras heard clearly enough and straightened up, accepting the man's outstretched hand. The whole scenario had been played out in seconds and it seemed as if Arya and Sansa were the only witnesses; the rest of the café seeming to be oblivious to the nearly deadly meeting.

As the two men shook hands Loras growled

"It's been a while Clegane."

"Too long Captain." The man replied, his scarred face twisting into a semblance of a smile.

As the tension dissipated. Sansa gasped, face white as a sheet

"I was only bringing him over to introduce him, not so you could shoot him!"

"He could have tried!" the huge man grunted sarcastically.

Laughing, Loras clasped his hand to the man's shoulder "You're still bringing that up after all these years?!"

"I'll never forget it and I doubt you will either."

"No, I won't!" Loras chuckled. "Will you join us?" he indicated to two empty seats.

"No thank you! We were just leaving." Sansa replied primly, drawing Loras a disdainful look. "Seeing as you two know already seem to know each other, I will just introduce you to my sister – Sandor – Arya, Arya – Sandor."

Sandor reached over the table, holding out a huge, strong hand to Arya. She took it warily, but his grip was firm but gentle.

"We've almost met a few times already" he smiled.

"When you were _stalking_ me!" Arya accused.

"I was just doing my job." He rasped, dropping her hand as if it were on fire.

"Oh get over yourself Arya!" Sansa hissed. "He was only following you, so he could get to me."

"I knew you two would meet up eventually, so I pulled every surveillance shift on Miss Stark that I could." The big man explained.

Arya seemed to be the only one who was appalled by this.

"So, tell me - how did you know she'd be here today?" Loras wondered

"We monitored Sansa's phone."

"Ahhh, so I never cast my net wide enough" Loras sighed.

"So you've seen _everything _I've sent and said then?" Sansa blurted out.

"_Everything!_" he agreed, grinning down at her. "Why do you think I'm here?"

"Oh!" Sansa gasped, a crimson tide of blush rising up from her chest, creeping up her neck to her face. She swayed on her impractically high heels and had to clutch onto his arm for support.

"Are you going to take those stupid shoes off before you break your ankle?" he grunted.

"They're Louboutins! I only bought them this morning and they match my bag!" Sansa lifted one foot off the ground and pressed her bag against the shoe, trying to prove her point. Standing on one sky high platform heel was too much, even for her, and she lurched to the side, prompting Sandor to grab her before she fell over.

"Are you going to take those fucking shoes off or not?" he growled

"Not!" she pouted.

"Well you're not walking anywhere like that!" he ordered gruffly, before bending down, grabbing her bag and throwing Sansa over his shoulder in a fire man's lift.

"Awwwww! Sandor!"She shrieked as her bottom was hoisted into the air, her auburn hair tumbling down his back, almost to the ground. Everyone in the café turned to watch and a few phones started flashing as pictures were taken of the spectacle.

Sandor turned around so Arya could see the red soles of Sansa's Louboutins kicking uselessly in the air. Only Sandor's hand on her bottom was holding Sansa's dress down and covering her panties. Arya had to bite her lip to stop from giggling at Sansa's predicament and Loras didn't try to stop himself, roaring with laughter.

"Arya. Captain. Nice to see you." The big man nodded, before carrying Sansa off. Ducking through the door to avoid bumping her bottom and his head on the door frame as the bell tinkled behind them.

"Aren't you going to do something?" Arya hissed at Loras who had to wipe the tears from his eyes.

"Like what? You heard her - she wanted a badass and she certainly got what she wanted! I never heard her ask to be put down. Did you?"

"No, but where's he taking her?"

"Back to his cave by the looks of it!" he guffawed. "Sansa Stark and The Hound – who would have seen that coming? He won't take any of her shit, that's for sure!"

Arya was going to ask Loras to explain what "The Hound" was, but then she realised he had been away getting the second lot of coffees when she had discussed Sansa's shit.

"How did you hear that?" she asked accusingly.

"Has nobody told you about the gifts that come with The Bite?"

"_Gifts?_" she repeated incredulously.

"Ahh, I see they haven't. I'll let Gendry explain that then. But it didn't take supernatural powers to know you were lying about his ring." He smirked.

Arya glared at him again. He was calling her a liar and she couldn't deny it.

Loras had pressed his index finger to his right ear while motioning to her to be quiet with the other hand.

"That is not Nymeria. Stand down. Nymeria is still inside. Nymeria and Golden are still inside. Confirm." He muttered into his sleeve.

He kept his index finger to his ear, smirking at whatever he was listening to, while watching Arya with those unfathomable eyes.

Arya was bursting to know what was going on, but when she started to ask, he waved his hand dismissively at her again, concentrating on what was going on in his earpiece. Arya hadn't even noticed it before, but when he finally took his finger away from his ear, she saw a tiny, flesh coloured bud inside his ear canal.

"So what was all that about?" Arya demanded.

"First the surveillance unit outside were in a panic, thinking that was you over Clegane's shoulder, then when I confirmed that you were still in here with me…"

"So you're '_Golden_' then?" Arya interrupted sarcastically.

"Always." He replied coolly, not appearing to either notice or care that she thought it was a stupid, pretentious name.

"And I'm Nymeria then? What's that mean?"

"You should be flattered. Renly came up with that one. She was a great warrior Queen. You should look her up."

Arya couldn't resist "And what's Gendry's code name?"

"Can't you guess? It's pretty obvious." he teased.

"Errr, big something?" she puzzled.

"Bull, or Bullshit when he's pissing me off – which is most of the time." He laughed. "So, after surveillance received my order to stand down, I got a running commentary on your sister's first date with The Hound."

"And…what happened?" Arya begged, exasperated that Loras knew and wasn't immediately sharing.

"I think it's fair to say the report could be summarised as _Get a room!" _ He snorted.

"Oh, that's great!" Arya sagged with relief "You know, I think he'll be the one to finally pop her cherry."

"You're sister's still a …."

"Yeah" Arya nodded sagely before he could finish, adding "…and so is yours!"

"Really? Christ! Well, that explains a lot!" he conceded, grimacing.

"The two of them might be a bit more…chilled if they got laid, don't you think?" Arya giggled. Loras nodded in agreement, rolling his eyes, before asking

"And what about you Arya? Think you might be a bit more…chilled yourself?"

She was about to tell him where to go, then, deciding he was deliberately trying to antagonise her, replied

"You know what Loras? You're right!" Arya stood up, grabbing her bag. "Let's forget lunch. Come on. Let's go!"

"Woah! I wasn't volunteering, if that's what you think!"

For the first time in the whole afternoon, Arya thought he looked slightly flustered. He hadn't even been this rattled when he was about to draw his gun on Sandor, she thought happily. She had just found the chink in his armour. It was her turn, finally, to smirk at him.

"Don't worry _Golden boy_ – you're not my type!"

Looking genuinely relieved he joked "But I thought I was _everyone's_ type!" as he put his aviator sunglasses back on and followed her out of the café.

The rain had stopped and the afternoon sunshine was quickly drying the wet pavements. Arya felt his warm hand on the small of her back. It was such an intimate gesture and it would have been inappropriate from anyone except a lover or a bodyguard. It was his way of keeping her close; within his zone of protection. His hand around her arm would have been too forced – it would have looked as if she was his prisoner and that wasn't the impression he wanted to give – even if it was partially true.

As he steered her through the afternoon shoppers, Arya couldn't help noticing the admiring and envious glances directed their way. This was getting to be the norm she thought. Whenever she went anywhere with Gendry, and now Loras, they attracted attention. Even when she was with Brienne they attracted unwanted attention – although for different reasons.

"Where are we going?" he whispered in her ear. She felt his warm breath on the side of her face and, more shockingly, smelled him. He smelled _wonderful_. There was no other way to describe it. She didn't know how to describe it exactly, but whatever it was, it was subtle and yet smelled manly and outdoorsy and dangerous all at the same time. She would need to buy Gendry some of that she thought, and then remembered she would definitely NOT be buying it for HIM. But she'd definitely be buying it forsomeone she decided.

"You'll see" she replied enigmatically "Just keep walking."

But shortly after she _had _to ask "What's that aftershave you're wearing Loras? It smells great." _Understatement of the year _– she thought to herself.

"I never wear aftershave. I find it interferes with my sense of smell, so I guess what you smell is…" he leaned in and whispered in her ear again "eau du wolf."

She was so shocked by his answer and by her subconscious reaction to his scent that she stopped dead in the middle of the crowd. He almost lost his hold on her as she stopped and he kept walking. Grabbing her by her waist he turned towards her, pulled her hard into his chest, and stared down at her. But this was no lovers embrace; this was a display of his strength and power. Her heart was hammering in her chest as he held her against him. She could feel his body heat burning through their clothes, his body hard and strong as steel and most of all she could smell him, more savage and animal than before.

"I told you it was in your blood. Do you believe me now?" he murmured, all the while his golden eyes staring into her grey.

"Let me go!" she tried to wriggle free, but he was overwhelmingly stronger than she was, even without the supernatural strength she knew he possessed.

"I'll let you go_, for now_, but I think we both know you're going to join us Arya. Whether it's sooner or later is up to you, but it _will_ happen."

"Never!" she hissed as he loosed his grip.

He shrugged. "It's your destiny."

"Who do you think you are? Bloody Yoda?"

"Darth Vader!" he laughed, breaking the tension "And I think I see where you're taking me." He groaned, looking at the window display of the 'Anne Summers' shop with disgust. The mannequins were dressed in stockings, suspenders, black underwear and feather boas.

"Not your cup of tea dear? Never mind, we're not here for you." Arya said cattily, as she walked off towards the shop, leaving him to catch up.

Arya had been in an Anne Summers shop years before with her University friends. Back then it had been a laugh and they hadn't bought anything. It now seemed rather down market compared to the Agent Provocateur shop Harrods's she'd been to with Him. However, she presumed a cheap sex toy would do the job just as well as an expensive one.

As Arya looked at the rows and rows of sex toys, she found it hard to believe that there was a sex shop in every high street of every city in Westeros. Who bought all this stuff she wondered? She could answer her own question - frustrated girls like her.

Loras seemed to have got over his initial disgust and seemed to be quite interested in the bondage section. She had decided, on the spur of the moment to bring Loras here, mainly to piss him off, but she had looked at their website more than once recently. She was missing sex. There, she'd admitted it to herself. She told herself it wasn't Him she was missing, just the sex and she intended to do something about it before her frustration reached boiling point and made her do something she would regret – like phone him up for a booty call. She wasn't at that stage yet, but she was worried that, in another few weeks she might be. So, it was time to quench that fire before it raged out of control.

"Anything in particular you're looking for?" Loras asked, as he smacked a riding crop off his open palm with a 'thwack'.

"Oh, very Christian Grey!" she giggled.

"Are you mocking me Miss Stark?" he accused, his voice harsh, as he thwacked the riding crop against his hand again, giving a _very_ convincing impression of a dominant Christian Grey.

"Oh! I wouldn't!" she giggled. He strode over to her, playing along.

"But I think you would Miss Stark and I wouldn't like that! So hurry up and let's get the fuck out of here before I'm tempted to use this thing for real."

"You wouldn't?" she gasped.

"Wouldn't I?" he sneered.

Game over, she decided not to bother trying to lie to him again.

"I'm looking for a substitute for Him."

"In that case, how about this?" Loras held up something called a 'vibrating bullet' which was about the size and shape of his little finger.

"Oh, very funny!" Arya drawled sarcastically "I was thinking more of something like this!" She held up an 'anatomically correct 7" dildo, complete with suction cup' according to the packaging "Only bigger!"

"I can't believe we're having a conversation about Gendry's dick" Loras sighed, pulling a face and shuddering dramatically "Can we just get out of here? All these multicoloured plastic cocks are making me feel like I'm having some kind of weird My Little Pony hallucination"

"Ok, I'll just find the biggest one." Arya picked up the XL version.

"Really?" Loras cocked an eyebrow suspiciously at the thing in Arya's hand.

"Really" she confirmed, heading for the counter.

Loras pulled out the inevitable Baratheon credit card. Arya was in half a mind to let him pay for it – there would be some kind of twisted logic to that, but she stuck to her decision – no Baratheon financial assistance and pulled out Robb's money instead.

"We big brothers can come in handy can't we?" he smirked, looking at the money. He'd obviously overheard that part of her conversation with Sansa too.

"Would you like some lube with that?" the assistant asked.

"Errr…." Arya dithered.

"Take the lube!" Loras advised dryly.

"Ok then" Arya said, doubting she'd need it, as she'd never needed lube with Him.

"And we've got some half price offers on cock rings this week" the girl gestured to a stand behind the desk before smiling cheekily at Loras.

"We'll take The Bull Ring!" he laughed.

Arya flushed with embarrassment. What was she supposed to do with that?

"You're going to tell Him all about this aren't you?" she hissed at Loras as the sales girl rang through the purchases.

"Only if he asks." Loras smirked.

Brienne was waiting with the Black Land Rover, when they came out of the shop.

"You took _him_ in _there?_" Brienne asked incredulously.

"I can't believe it either." Loras grumbled "Don't invite me shopping ever again. Take Sansa next time ok? Maybe they've got one of those cock rings called The Hound" he laughed.

Brienne's face was a picture.

"It's been interesting Arya. Think about what I said and call me _**when**_ you change your mind."

"Don't hold your breath" Arya replied sweetly.


	18. Chapter 18 - The Funeral

**CHAPTER 18**

**First, I have to rectify an omission. In the last chapter I gave Loras the code name 'Golden' in tribute to a WONDERFUL Renly/Loras fanfic, of the same name, that I've been reading by JeanJacquesFrancois and then I forgot to mention it (Duh!) and thank the author (and if you read this I hope you accept it as a tribute and not think of it as me ripping off your excellent idea). I highly recommend you check that fanfic out, as it's so good it could've been written by GRRM himself. **

**Second, I don't know if it's because I'm writing a Big G pov this week or if it's because it's a full moon out there, but I had great fun writing this chapter. I know you all want some more Gendarya smut, but it's surely going to be all the better if I make you wait for it….**

THE FUNERAL

Gendry stood alone in the centre of the gym trying to gather his thoughts. What the hell was happening to him? He would never intentionally hurt Jon – didn't they know that? Nobody had warned him he'd turn into an animal at the slightest provocation.

He needed help. He needed answers and he set off to find Renly. He didn't need to follow his nose this time. As he approached the main atrium of the castle he heard a woman's high pitched giggle and the rumble of Renly's deep voice. So Renly was entertaining a lady friend. This could be interesting.

As Gendry walked into the dinning room, he saw Renly sitting with, not one, but two ladies, at a round table set up in the great, curved glass window. One was young, with her back to him. Smaller, curvier than Arya, with long, wavy brown hair flowing down her back, over a pale blue dress. The other was a wizened little old woman, wearing a hat. And Renly himself was wearing some weird purple silk pyjama get up.

The table was groaning under the weight of a four tier cake stand, crammed with various kinds of sandwiches, scones and cakes. Scattered over the rest of the table was an assortment of tea cups, bowls, jugs and a big round thing with a knitted bobble hat cover. As he approached he could make out the spout of a tea pot sticking out of the knitting. A smile flickered over his lips. It looked as if Renly was hosting the Mad Hatter's tea party with Alice and the dormouse, and here he was, the big bad wolf. But, there wasn't a wolf in Alice in Wonderland – was there? He couldn't think of what other character he could be. He didn't feel like a Cheshire cat or a white rabbit. The mad Queen – that would need to be Loras he thought to himself and that smile on his lips turned into a grin. God, he needed to get out more.

"Good morning Gendry!" Renly greeted him with his usual enthusiasm, standing up and indicating a chair that Gendry could bring over "Come and join us!"

Gendry carried the chair over before holding out his hand to the little old woman who grabbed it with a hand like a vice. He was expecting a frail, limp handshake and hoped his shock at receiving the opposite wasn't written across his face.

Renly started the introductions.

"Gendry, this is Lady Olenna Redwyne, Loras' grandmother."

"Pleased to meet you" Gendry gave the old lady his most charming smile (he hoped) that he saved for occasions such as these. "I've heard about you already from Loras." Which was true, but he wouldn't have been able to repeat any of the descriptions or Loras' claim that she could kick his arse. Thinking about the steely, little old lady trying made his smile wider.

"Nice teeth" Lady Redwyne chirped immediately.

"Pardon?" said Gendry, thinking he must have misheard. He had thought she'd said "_nice teeth_".

"And his manners seem acceptable, although I find him to be rather too big to be handsome. A bit like yourself Renly. But at least _he_ cuts his hair."

Yep. She had definitely commented on his teeth. He tried to keep the charming smile plastered to his face, but his mouth closed.

It was obvious where Loras got his manners and charming personality.

"Oh Granny, you are awful! He's not even sat down yet!" the girl on his left giggled. He turned around to her and held out his hand. He recognised her immediately as one of the girls from Robb's wedding dinner, but which one? It wasn't the one Robb was marrying so it must be either Jeyne or Margaery.

Renly came to his rescue.

"I understand you've met Loras' sister Margaery before."

"Pleased to meet you again Margaery" he smiled at the girl with relief as much as anything else. She gave him coy smile back. If he remembered rightly she hadn't been so coy the first time they'd met. All the girls had been so drunk that Robb had banned them from drinking any more champagne and had laid down the law with Arya – telling her she couldn't spend the night at his flat. That reminded him; he really needed to phone Robb about the damn wedding.

"I'll be mother!" Renly chortled as he poured his nephew a cup of tea. "These two dear ladies are staying with us until after the funeral."

"I'm sorry for your loss" Margaery said sympathetically as she stroked her hand gently over his in what Gendry thought was an overly familiar gesture. He'd only met her once before, but maybe this was how rich folk behaved.

"So you're the new Lord Baratheon" the old lady snapped. Gendry wasn't sure if it was a question or a statement. He smiled nervously and looked to Renly for guidance. Renly nodded encouragingly.

"Yes ma'am." Gendry confirmed then added "at your service" as he thought it sound like the proper thing to say.

Renly grimaced slightly. Too old fashioned? Too subservient? He was lost without Arya's or Renly's advice. He resolved to say as little as possible in case he put his big foot in it. So he picked up a tiny sandwich, thinking he was less likely to be asked any questions if his mouth was full. He was about to pop the whole thing in his mouth when he saw the look of horror on Renly's face. So he took a small bite – hardly enough to even get a taste, before putting the other half of the sandwich down on the nearest plate. Renly rolled his eyes. Shit. That must be someone else's plate. He hastily picked it up again and held it in his hand, up in the air, unsure whether he should eat it or what the hell to do with it.

"Well, this one has possibilities" the old lady stated to the table in general as if she was talking about a piece of furniture – or meat.

"You're not gay like Renly are you?" she demanded, glaring at Gendry.

"Umm, no." he answered truthfully.

"Good. I don't approve of that. You know I like you Renly…" she turned her piercing gaze towards Renly who was smiling indulgently at her "…but that's not the right way for a man from a good family to behave. You should be married, producing heirs to continue the Baratheon line!" she lectured.

Gendry wanted to blurt out "What about Loras?!" but didn't think anyone around the table would appreciate the comment.

"Perhaps it's just as well you waited Margaery. This one seems a good catch." she tilted her furry little hat and her funny little head towards Gendry.

"Oh don't mind her!" Margaery purred to a shocked Gendry while stoking the back of his hand and trailing her fingers gently over his. "She has always wanted to see the Houses of Tyrell and Baratheon joined."

Was Lady Redwyne really suggesting that he and Margaery…like an arranged marriage thing?

He raised his eyebrows at Renly. Was Renly going to tell Lady Redwyne about his engagement to Arya or did he have to? Before he could, Margaery mentioned it

"Gendry _was_ engaged to Sansa Stark's little sister Arya." Margaery explained to the little old lady.

"_Was?_" Gendry spluttered, sending a little bit of chewed sandwich flying out of his mouth and landing in Renly's teacup. Renly looked disgustedly down at his cup of tea.

"Oh, is it still on? I beg your pardon then Gendry, but I heard that Arya had broken it off and that she wasn't wearing her engagement ring anymore." Margaery smiled sweetly at him. "I must have misheard."

Arya wasn't wearing her ring? Well that was fucking news to him! He glowered at Renly mouthing "What the fuck?"

Renly sighed, before standing up and smoothly making their excuses.

"Ladies, if you will excuse us, Gendry and I have some business to discuss. I'll have Penrose bring through another pot of tea for you."

Renly bowed slightly to each of the ladies, starting with Lady Redwyne. Gendry copied him, earning him a sly smile of approval from the old lady that he could help comparing to that of a cobra, coiled and about to strike.

Gendry shoved the rest of the sandwich in his mouth as soon as his back was turned to the table. He couldn't get out of there quickly enough, but he wasn't quick enough to avoid overhearing the old lady say to Margaery

"Yes, he'll do for you _Lady Baratheon" before_ the two of them giggled excitedly.

"Want to tell me what the fuck that was about?" he hissed to Renly through his sandwich as they walked out of the room.

"Well - you could just think of Margaery as your back up plan if it doesn't work out with Arya."

"No fucking way! Are you fucking serious?" Gendry ranted.

Renly stopped in his tracks and turned around, exasperated

"Look _Lord Baratheon_. You need an heir or, preferably heirs, sooner rather than later and a match with the Tyrells would be advantageous for many reasons."

"Oh yeah? So fucking Loras can _officially_ be my brother-in-law?"

Renly's lip curled at that comment and Gendry knew he'd overstepped the mark with his Uncle.

"Come on Renly" he pleaded "You never said that marrying _anyone_ was part of the deal."

"I told you I needed you to strengthen The Pack and, by implication, that means heirs."

"Oh, right…_by implication." _Gendry repeated sarcastically. "I wonder why I missed that bit?"

"Well, you'd better hope Arya will still marry you then." Renly snorted as he walked off. Gendry hurried after him.

"Do you know anything about her not wearing her ring?"

"Loras said she had it on yesterday."

Gendry was relieved to hear it. So Margaery had been wrong.

"Yesterday? How'd he know that?"

Renly gave that exasperated sigh again

"It's his job to know and anyway, they had lunch together yesterday."

"Lunch?!" Gendry yelped. What the fuck was Arya doing having lunch with Loras? And how come nobody told him?

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" Renly suggested, starting to walk up the stairs. Gendry followed a stair behind.

"There's another thing I need to talk to you about. I need you to tell me what's happening to me."

"Well, Loras is more of an expert than I am on that. He's the one who taught us to control it." Renly snorted, "Well, he _tried_ to teach Robert to control it. Robert proved to be a less than enthusiastic pupil." Renly smiled sadly at the memory as they rounded the top of the stairs.

"But Loras _isn't_ helping me!"

"Did you ask him nicely?" Renly sighed.

"Going to stop fucking walking away from me Renly!" Gendry yelled. "I nearly fucking killed Jon this morning and Loras just stood there and watched!"

Renly stopped and ran one perfectly manicured hand through his hair as he looked at his nephew with a mixture of sympathy and irritation.

"But you didn't kill him did you? Loras wouldn't let that happen. _Not to Jon._" He smirked. "Look Gendry, I will help you with Baratheon Enterprises and all of this" he waved his arm around, indicating Storm's End "and I've asked already asked Penrose if he'll give you some lessons in etiquette…" Gendry pulled a face that Renly pointedly ignored, carrying on "…but controlling The Wolf is Loras' territory. He's the one who can teach you how to control it and the best way to tap into it. Go and ask him. He doesn't bite you know. At least not this week!" Renly started laughing at his own joke as Gendry glowered at him.

"I've still got last minute arrangements to make for the funeral" Renly huffed "and I need to go. Just swallow that goddamn Baratheon pride of yours and ask for his help. Christ! I don't need another Stannis on my hands! Now go!" With that Renly shooed him away by waving his hands, as if he was shooing away a naughty little pup.

Gendry was left standing at the top of the stairs, watching Renly's purple silk pyjamas disappear down the corridor.

"And that reminds me – your Uncle Stannis is coming to the funeral tomorrow. For God's sake try and be nice to him!" Renly shouted over his shoulder.

_Fucking Renly, fucking Loras, fucking Stannis,_ Gendry muttered under his breath.

"_Fucking Baratheons!" _He yelled at the paintings of his ancestors who watched his unhappy progress as he headed back down the stairs.

-o-

Gendry met his half-brother Edric Storm minutes before the funeral. They were all gathered in a small annex to the Guild Hall – were Robert's funeral service was being held.

Stannis was familiar enough from the power point presentations Gendry had been forced to watch before the fateful Baratheon Board Meeting. In the flesh he was exactly as Gendry had anticipated; Gruff, grim, bad tempered and reeking of Werewolf. Gendry hadn't noticed it so much with Loras and Renly. Perhaps it was because he had been familiar with them and their scent before he'd turned wolf himself. Stannis' presence was like an unwelcome assault on his senses. It irritated him in a different way than Loras' did. Stannis made him feel defensive, guarded, and territorial. He wondered if this was the way dogs felt when they met another from a different pack. Another question for Renly - or Loras.

Edric obviously hadn't been bitten _yet_. He smelled of nerves, cheap aftershave and a new suit. Was Stannis an Alpha now Robert was dead? Was biting Edric even on Stannis' agenda? Gendry didn't doubt his oldest uncle had an agenda, but had no idea what it was. Yet more another questions.

It was as if Stannis and Renly were opposite sides of the same coin. It seemed to Gendry that his uncle Renly deliberately went out of his way to irritate uncle Stannis, but perhaps Stannis was just too easy a target for Renly to resist.

"So this is your Bastard?" Stannis demanded of Renly while raking his cold blue eyes over Gendry.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours!" Renly teased, before clasping Edric by the shoulder and welcoming him enthusiastically to the family. Gendry noticed he didn't say '_to_ _The Pack_".

That left Gendry and Stannis eyeing each other warily. Gendry knew enough about his uncle to be cautious around him. Renly had warned him that Stannis was less than happy that a bastard son had inherited Storm's End and Baratheon Enterprises before the eldest brother of the full blood. But as Renly had pointed out, Stannis had lost Storm's End years ago and had never expressed any interest in the family business, so it was all justifiable – to Renly at least.

"I don't need to see the results of a DNA test to know you're Robert's son." Stannis admitted somewhat reluctantly.

"And I don't need to see Edric's" Gendry replied, trying to find some common ground with his uncle, although he was thinking that Edric must have received more of his mother's genes than Gendry had from his mother.

Edric had the same jet black hair and piercing blue Baratheon eyes, but he was shorter, with prominent ears and, despite being only about twenty, his heavy build was already carrying a few extra stone in weight. He also had the worst haircut Gendry could remember seeing on a teenage boy – it really did look as if his mother had taken a bowl and a pair of scissors to it - and an ill fitting suit. It was clear that appearances were not nearly as important to Stannis as they were to Renly and Gendry didn't doubt that, if he got the chance, Renly would be giving the boy a designer Baratheon makeover.

"We always suspected he was Robert's bastard. His mother is a cousin of Selyse's and she had always denied that she'd fucked Robert. Renly's DNA test proved her to be a liar." Stannis stated matter-of-factly.

It was obvious from the tense expression that crossed his face that Edric wasn't happy Stannis called his mother a liar, but the boy said nothing. Gendry felt a wave of sympathy for his half-brother. Robert had _fucked_ his mother too and there was perhaps more to Edric's conception than Stannis knew. Gendry resolved to make every effort to try and get to know Edric and to help him if he could; after all, he was the closest blood relation he had.

"Right! Who's carrying the coffin?" the undertaker interrupted.

"The boy and I'll take one side!" Stannis declared gruffly, indicating Edric, who looked too scared to even nod in agreement.

"And Gendry and I will take the other." Renly confirmed.

The undertaker led them outside to an enormous black hearse. The four of them stood at the back of the hearse as the undertaker removed the brass rails around the casket and slid it forward on rollers.

"Who's taking the front?"

Renly and Stannis stepped forward. Robert's two brothers bent down and manoeuvred the front two edges of the coffin onto their shoulders.

"Move forward. Slowly" The undertaker suggested.

The two brothers did as they were bid and Gendry and Edric moved into position at the rear. The polished walnut casket was rolled forward. Gendry could see that a gold prancing stag had been inlaid into the wood at each corner. Trust Renly to think of details like that.

As the weight of the coffin settled onto his shoulder, Gendry slowly straightened up. He could immediately see Edric was struggling with the other side. The coffin was bloody heavy anyway, but Gendry, Stannis and Renly were all within an inch or so of each other in height, while Edric was a good four inches shorter and the majority of the weight seemed to be dropping onto his shoulder.

Gendry tried to flex his knees to bring him down nearer to Edric's height, but it didn't seem to help much. Gendry briefly considered suggesting that Loras, who at six foot two, was half way in-between their heights, replace Edric, but he knew that, if it was him in Edric's position, he wouldn't want that. He didn't know if Edric had ever met his father; their father. Now he had been asked to carry his coffin. He couldn't fail. Murdering bastard or not, Gendry wanted to carry his father's coffin with his uncles and it was Edric's place to do it too.

"If we link arms, it'll spread the load" Gendry muttered across to Edric, placing his hand on his half brother's shoulder without waiting for a reply. Immediately Edric looked less pained as Gendry let the coffin rest on his own, outstretched, arm. Edric also rested his hand on Gendry's shoulder, but it didn't make much difference, if any, to the weight Gendry bore. If he didn't have supernatural strength to call on, even he would have struggled with this weight. It felt as if Renly had the coffin lead lined or something. Maybe he bloody well had.

The four of them moved forward towards the doors of the great hall as a choir started some dirge like, wailing song.

Gendry had hoped to get a good look around the hall as he walked slowly down the isle; _looking for Arya_, but he found he had to concentrate on Renly's feet to keep in time with the slow walk. Keeping his arm flexed under the coffin was beginning to hurt and it was a relief to get to the end of the long aisle and place the coffin on the raised dais.

Varys was already standing front and centre, ready to conduct the proceedings. Stannis and Renly walked over to the right hand side of the front row and sat down. Gendry and Edric followed. He only had the briefest time to scan the audience and he failed to see her. Stannis' daughter was already sat in the front row with her mother and Penrose. Loras, Jon, several other Baratheon security and Baratheon Enterprise people he recognised from his 'Meet and Greet' at head office, were in the row behind.

On the other side of the isle, in the front row sat Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen. They were book ended by a striking older man, his blonde hair turning to white, but who carried himself with an arrogance that announced he'd been a leader all of his life and one of the blondest, most handsome men Gendry had ever seen. Gendry didn't consider himself a good judge of 'handsomeness' but there could be no doubting that, however it was defined, the man nearest to him had it in spades. It struck Gendry, and must have been obvious to everyone sitting behind, that the front row on one side was all black haired, and the front row on the other all blonde.

Myrcella was weeping openly and Tommen looked as if he had been crying. Joffrey still looked like the self righteous little prick he had always appeared to be whenever Gendry had seen him strutting around Tobho Mott's forecourt. But Gendry had never given any thought, until now, as to how the two younger kids were feeling. Did they know why Robert (did they still call him 'Dad'?) had disowned and disinherited them? It was hardly their fault. He felt like a fraud. Everything had been taken away from the only two people in the whole fucking hall who seemed upset that Robert Baratheon was dead. Everything had been taken away from them and given to him. Gendry certainly wouldn't be shedding a tear for the old cunt. He was glad he was dead. Admitting that to himself just made him feel guilty and more wretched for the two teenagers crying across the isle.

"Is Cersi here?" he whispered to Renly.

"She wouldn't dare!" Renly hissed back. "But that's Jaime sitting across the isle from you, his father Tywin is on the other side of the kids. Those two are so arrogant and thick skinned they don't give a flying fuck what the newspapers say about them. If you look, you can see the top of Tyrion's head in between the kids. He's the only one of the whole clan I ever had any time for."

"Not the kids?" Gendry wondered.

"Oh well, yeah. Tommen and Myrcella are good kids; pity about Joffrey though. I'd say he's borderline psychopath. He's definitely label able – sociopath at least. Now we know he's the product of an incestuous relationship it almost makes sense."

"And Arya? Is she here?" he asked, desperately wanting the answer to be yes. It was.

"Yes. She's supposed to be anyway, as all the security staff is here. There's no-one left out there to keep an eye on her. And when are you going to realise you have to ask Loras all this stuff? I really don't have time to keep tabs on everyone. That's _his_ job and he's damn good at it. While we're the subject of dear Loras, did you talk to him as we discussed yesterday?"

"No" Gendry admitted sheepishly.

Renly exhaled loudly through gritted teeth.

"Loras, going to sort this boy out please?" Renly muttered under his breath.

"Why did you say that? He's sitting way over there." Gendry grumbled.

"And listening to every word we say. Haven't you learned _anything_ yet?" Renly scolded his nephew.

Gendry remembered how he'd been able to find Loras and Jon in the gym by using his new, heightened sense of smell. He'd had to close his eyes for it to work then; He closed his eyes now and listened.

Voices were everywhere, but he knew Loras' and he listened for it, filtering out everything else; the moans about the weather, the discussions as to whether there would be a free bar afterwards, the words '_Lannister_', '_incest'_ and '_bastard_' that seemed to be popping up out of the general drone of conversation around him, and then he found him. Loras. He could hear the sarcasm dripping off every word.

"All you have to do is ask me _nicely_."

"Fuck that." Gendry muttered under his breath.

"I heard that Waters!" Loras again, laughing this time.

"Shit!" Gendry gasped.

"Heard that too!"

Gendry _had_ to turn around. Loras was at the far side of the second row, at least thirty, chattering people were between them. Loras was smirking at him. It was impossible, but it was happening. He could do it.

"Fuck me!" he said with feeling, under his breath, not caring if Loras heard.

"As if!" snorted Loras, before both Renly and Loras started laughing. Then he heard Stannis. It _had_ to be Stannis, _could only be Stannis…_

"You think this is funny? You fucking little shits. This isn't a party trick for your own amusement!"

And then he was laughing along with Renly and Loras. His Pack.

-o-

The funeral service was a 'Humanist' affair, which Gendry found rather ironic. So, although Varys appeared to be conducting the memorial service, it was really a procession of the great and the good of Westeros singing his father's praises. Gendry knew it was all bullshit. There was possibly some nugget of truth buried in each eulogy, but when Varys spoke of his father's generosity to the Baratheon Widow's and Orphan's fund right to the very end of his life, Gendry knew the money was merely a bribe, so his father could get what he wanted from Varys. He imagined that the truth behind every other tale of his father's philanthropy was much the same.

Mercifully Renly spoke for the Baratheon family and the Lannister contingent had been allowed to attend on condition that they didn't speak, so the only problem Gendry had with the whole thing was trying to stave off the boredom. He amused himself by practicing listening to the voices of the audience. Unfortunately there was rather limited opportunity as, by and large, everyone shut up when there was a speaker on the dais. Hard as he tried, he never heard, or smelled Arya.

When the end eventually came and it was time for them to all file out, Gendry, at the end of the first row, was surprised to see Joffrey push past Jaime, in an attempt to be first down the aisle. While everyone else was standing patiently, waiting on the Baratheons to leave first, Joffrey seemed to want to make some sort of statement. Gendry wasn't for letting him.

It was a school boy trick and hardly fitting behaviour for the new Lord Baratheon, but he did it anyway. A foot casually extended as Joffrey barged past, sent Joffrey sprawling and cursing on the floor in the middle of the aisle to plenty of snickered approvals. Gendry stepped over him, as did Renly following close behind. It was left to Jaime to help his son to his feet, while bemoaning his son's lack of manners under his breath.

The four Baratheons, two brothers, two bastard sons, lined up in the foyer and proceeded to shake hands with everyone who wished to express their condolences. Gendry tried hard to find some empathy with the expressions of regret he received from everyone, hoping his murmured thanks sounded sincere.

Nobody could have missed Tywin and Jaime strut out of the foyer without so much as a glance in the Baratheon's direction, with Joffrey trotting behind. Joffrey did attempt to snarl across at them, causing Renly and Gendry to chuckle, both imaging Joffrey shitting his pants if they returned his poor attempt at a snarl with one of their own.

It was, however, easy to miss Tyrion, invisible in the queue until he was right in front of them, leading Tommen and Myrcella and solemnly shaking all four of the Baratheon hands that were offered to him.

"We are sincerely sorry for your loss. They fuck you up your Mum and Dad." He said seriously as he shook Gendry's hand.

Gendry thought that a very odd thing to say, but then he seemed to be an odd little man. Before he could think of an appropriate response, Edric piped up

"_They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had and add some extra just for you._"

"Well said! You're new aren't you?" Tyrion asked. Edric turned beet red and stammered 'Yessss'

"I _like_ you! The Baratheon's aren't generally known for their fierce intellect, they're…"

Before he could finish Gendry interrupted with "_just fierce!_" He bent down and gave the little man an enthusiastic, deep rumbling snarl that he'd been practising using his new voice. It gave him a perverse pleasure to see Tyrion blink with shock and perhaps a little fear.

"And good looking!" Renly added with a chuckle.

"I see the apple didn't fall far from the tree with that one!" Tyrion commented to Renly, while pointing a stubby finger in the direction of the new Lord Baratheon. "And so the game continues…" he sighed enigmatically before waddling off.

"What was that mum and dad stuff about?" Gendry muttered out of the corner of his mouth to Edric.

"It's a poem…" Edric started to say

"…by Philip Larkin." A soft voice directly in front of Gendry finished. Myrcella was holding out her hand to him, but looking at Edric and blushing furiously.

As Gendry shook her hand, he decided she must have been about eighteen. Although her eyes were red rimmed and her face blotchy from crying, she was already undeniable beautiful. He'd heard her mother was a great beauty and Myrcella seemed to have inherited her mother's looks, but then her true father wasn't exactly ugly either. The young girl was still unsure of herself, but give her a few years and some self confidence and she'd be stunning. It amused him to see that Edric was also blushing furiously and his half brother's handshake with Myrcella would have taken the prize for the most fleeting and the most awkward of the day, if there had been such a prize.

-o-

It was Brienne Gendry saw first, standing a head above most of the other people filing out of the hall. Instead of joining the queue to offer her condolences, she caught Renly's eye, nodding and smiling wistfully over to him, before walking off, towards the exit. He saw the side of Arya's face, on the far side of Brienne, obviously trying to avoid being seen. She was here and she was leaving without his having a chance to speak to her.

At that moment, his hand was being clutched by some old bat who was trying to tell him that she'd know his father since the holidays he'd spent in the Vale of Arryn. Gendry had been trying to listen politely, with his charming grin for the old ladies fixed onto his face, but he needed to go after her _now_ and to hell with manners.

"Have you met his other bastard son, Edric?" he rushed, grabbing poor Edric's hand and clamping it over the old lady's while simultaneously extracting his own. The old bat's face was a picture as Gendry left, pushing through the slow moving throng of mourners to follow Arya.

By the time he made it out of the door, ignoring umpteen attempts to shake his hand, she was already half way across the car park with Brienne.

"Arya!" he yelled.

She stopped walking and looked over her shoulder, but there was no welcoming smile on her lips as he ran towards her.

Although he wanted to scoop her up in his arms and lose himself in her embrace, her body language was screaming at him to back off. He stopped a few feet from her. She turned around to face him. Was it reluctantly? Brienne stood beside her, arms folded.

"Can we have a minute alone Brienne?" he asked, trying to keep the irritation from his voice.

"Arya?" Brienne enquired, seeking Arya's authority to leave. It was given in a curt nod and Brienne reluctantly marched off, towards the waiting fleet of cars.

"I've missed you." He murmured.

If he had expected her to confess she'd missed him too he would have been disappointed. She wasn't even meeting his eyes; instead staring at an apparently fascinating spot on the ground.

He reached across and gently took the fingers of her left hand. They were cold against his, but touching her thrilled him the same way it always had – like a jolt of excitement that made everything seem brighter and made him feel more alive. He gently rubbed his thumb over the third finger of her right hand where he had hoped his ring would be. He couldn't help himself. She stiffened under his touch, but she didn't pull away, however she still didn't look at him. He could hear her heart pounding, and under her wonderful 'Arya' scent he could discern adrenaline and something else. It wasn't fear, but he didn't know how to describe it. He just knew it made him unbearably sad.

"Hey, can you look at me?" he coaxed softly, lifting her chin up with the thumb and forefinger of his other hand.

His heart lurched as those grey eyes met his. The love he'd once seen, had hoped so desperately to see today, wasn't there. Her eyes were sad, full of unspoken blame and regret.

He closed his eyes as he couldn't bear the expression in hers and took a deep breath.

"I love you Arya. You know I'd do _anything _for you – give you anything. Just tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it."

He didn't know what else to say, but still she didn't reply.

"I just want us to be the way we were." He pleaded.

"Can you be human again?" she asked quietly.

He exhaled deeply, steeling himself for the conversation he had hoped not to have.

"No, but ..."

"Then that's all I need to know" she cut him off and tried to extricate her fingers from his. He grabbed onto them, desperate to hold onto her and to have her listen to him.

"Will you not even listen to me? _Please?_" he begged. He would have got down on his knees if he though it would have done any good.

"I didn't have a choice at the end. I was alone with him and he attacked me. I didn't want this either and if I could change it I would, but I can't and this _one thing_…**this one thing Arya**…doesn't change anything else. It doesn't change how I feel about you, that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, marry you. _God,_ _everything is you! _You're all I ever wanted, ever since we were kids. I _know_ you felt the same way and we can make this work. I can give you anything now. We can run away; anywhere you want. Please Arya? _Please?_"

"How can we run away from what's inside you?" she demanded. "Where can we go to get away from the full moon? I _told you_ I couldn't handle it and now I know what it did to Lyanna and to the rest of my family, I don't want anything to do with _it._"

"Just give me a chance. Maybe there's ways around it - Stannis chains himself in his dungeon every full moon. Maybe I could do that? I'll do anything, _anything_ if you'll give me another chance."

He rested his forehead gently against hers, taking her other hand in his and holding her fingers carefully, trying to give her time, fighting the urge to grab her and kiss her and _make_ her his again.

Through his skin touching her skin he could _feel_ she was torn.

She was gripping his fingers, her eyes were screwed shut, breathing heavy but she didn't come to him and press against him the way he so wanted.

"I can't." she choked, breaking his heart.

"_You can_ _Arya. You can do anything!_"

Then, realising he had shouted at her and pressed his forehead too hard against hers, feeling that Werewolf rising inside of him, clawing it's way up, he tried to continue more carefully, trying to calm his hammering, broken heart.

"_For me?_" he pleaded desperately.

Her eyes flickered open to look up at him and for a split second he saw his love returned in her grey eyes before she recoiled in horror.

"_Your eyes!_" she gasped, jerking away from him, her fingers almost escaping his, but he was _so_ much faster than she was and he grabbed her, clung on to her, before she could slip away.

"Arya" he intended to plead, but it came out as a rasping, inhuman growl from deep in his throat.

"Brienne!" she shrieked.

He was aware of Brienne turning and running back towards them, as if in slow motion and of Arya retreating away from him, eyes wide with panic, pain and fear. But more than that, _much more than that_, assaulting his senses, _demanding_ his attention was the smell of blood; _her blood _on his hands. Fascinated, he lifted his hands up to examine the droplets of her blood glistening on his wolf nails. Instinctively, before he had time to think about what he was doing, he licked her blood off his fingers.

"_What the fuck is wrong with you?!_" she screamed, instantly hauling him back to reality.

Brienne was already half way back across the car park and he wasn't going to risk a confrontation here. Not with the taste of Arya's blood still on his lips and a blood lust, like nothing he'd ever experienced before, raging in his brain.

"I'm sorry" he managed to rasp before turning and half running, half staggering, back towards the funeral.

Back towards fucking Loras, who was standing watching everything. He was leaning against the wall, one knee bent, foot resting against the stone work, hands in his pockets, aviators on. Just waiting.

"Ready to ask for my help now?" he drawled.

"Yes" Gendry croaked, staggering towards Loras, who wrapped his arm protectively around Gendry's shoulder and helped him back into a waiting Ranger Rover.

At the other end of the car park, Brienne was doing the same for Arya.


	19. Chapter 19 - Family

**Chapter 19**

**FAMILY**

At 7am sharp the next morning he walked into the gym at Storm's End. Loras, Jon and Renly were all ready there. Jon and Loras were in sweat pants and t shirts. Renly was still in his damn silk pyjamas.

"You look like you're wearing a condom!" Loras jeered.

Gendry looked down at his clothes, he had on the latest, high performance, Adidas Sprintweb, sweat-wicking, fitted running gear. Ok, so white might not have been the best colour choice, but the gear was cool as fuck. He was thinking of a snappy retort when Renly interrupted.

"Boy, boys" Renly sighed. "Let's not start this again. It's too damn early for bickering and we need to _stay calm."_ That last part was obviously directed at Loras and Gendry as he glared at the two of them while he said it.

"Ok, ok." Loras grumbled. "Here we go then. Lesson one in '_how to_ _stay calm'_."

Loras got the three of them to line up in front of him. Gendry was surprised Renly was taking part, especially in pyjamas.

"Jon or Gendry have you tried Tai Chi before?"

"Tai Chi?" Gendry repeated incredulously. "Jon gets Krav Maga and I get fucking Tai Chi? I want the Krav Maga." He demanded, folding his arms and clenching his jaw.

"See the problem?" Loras yelled at Renly, while gesticulating at Gendry. "You expect me to help this little shit?"

"I'm bigger than you _old man_!" Gendry snarled, spoiling for a fight.

"SHUT UP!" an exasperated Renly bellowed, before gathering himself together and continuing more calmly, "Remember _Gendry_, Tai Chi is still a martial art. I believe Loras wishes to use it to teach us focus, mental calm and clarity and, God knows, we could _all_ do with some of that this morning. Now, please continue Loras."

Loras began again, starting with some simple breathing and posture exercises. Renly was obviously well practiced, but Gendry was surprised by how hard it was to stand still on one leg with his eyes closed. After about forty minutes, to his amazement, he was beginning to feel something that might possibly have been inner calm, when he suddenly heard Stannis.

"What's this? Practicing your dance moves for Renly's next disco?"

Gendry's eyes snapped open. How the hell hadn't he smelled Stannis? The man was a walking stink bomb. It had to be the wind. The roof to the gym was open and the breeze was blowing down over them and out of the gym door. Stannis was effectively downwind. He'd need to remember that. He obviously couldn't rely on his sense of smell alone, supernatural or not.

"Morning Stannis. Fancy joining us?" Renly asked cheerfully, while still continuing with his slow, rhythmic, Tai Chi moves. The other three stopped. Jon and Loras walked over to the water cooler to get a drink.

"I'd rather chew off my own paw, but thanks anyway Renly" Stannis sneered.

"What the fuck are you wearing boy?" He growled at Gendry.

"Durex. Extra large." Gendry smirked, earning a snicker of approval from Loras in the corner.

Stannis chose to ignore the school boy humour. He was leaning against the door of the gym, looking as dour and condescending as ever.

"So there are four of you now." It was a statement, not a question. "Empire building are we Renly?"

Renly stopped and looked disdainfully at his older brother.

"Only three _so far._" 

Stannis sniffed the air delicately.

"Ahh, so there are. What's the plan for _him_ then?" he nodded toward Jon. "Or didn't the bite work on him?"

"He's a Stark." Renly said triumphantly, as if that's all the explanation that was needed.

Stannis was obviously shocked by this revelation. "You must be Ned's bastard then?"

"Something like that." Jon replied, giving Stannis a glacial stare.

Renly had obviously never shared his theory, now proved, about Lyanna and Rhaegar's son with Stannis.

So who's the Alpha now? Who's going to bite_ him_?" Stannis leered at Jon.

Gendry though Stannis was about to lick his lips. Jon was beginning to look very uncomfortable.

"We don't know yet." Renly admitted. "We'll find out this Full Moon."

"So you won't be turning Ned's bastard this cycle then?" Stannis presumed.

Loras spoke up,

"Oh, I don't know. The sooner the better as far as I'm concerned. I was thinking that all three of us could bite him, just to make sure." Loras grinned lasciviously at Jon. Jon turned a few shades paler and it would have been funny to watch if it hadn't been so damned crucial for his pack.

"So the Arya I overheard you talking about at the funeral is Arya_ Stark_. Is she also part of your master plan Renly?"

Gendry was shocked. He'd thought about biting Arya of course, lately it was all he could think about, but he'd never considered that as part of Renly's plan. Arya was his business and his alone – wasn't she?

"We'll see" Renly replied enigmatically. Gendry would need to talk to him about that. Soon.

"What about Edric?" Renly asked, smoothly changing the subject. "Are you going to turn him?"

"Why would I want to inflict _The Curse_ on him? On anyone? Robert ruined my life when he bit me! The cunt never even asked me first, but I'll bet he told _you_ all about it didn't he Renly?" Stannis sneered.

"We were close, shared a special bond." Renly admitted. "Belonging to a pack has certain benefits. It makes us smarter and more fun to be around. You should try it sometime Stannis."

Stannis gave the most impressive long, low deep growl that Gendry had ever heard. It reverberated all around the gym, making the glass walls resonate and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Hell, the hairs all over his body stood up. That was _way_ cooler than simply telling Renly to fuck off.

If Renly was affected at all, he didn't show it.

"So, back to Edric. If you don't want him, can we have him?"

"He's a smart boy. God knows he didn't get that off Robert. He's too smart to fall for your smoke and mirrors Renly and I promised his mother I'd have him back at Drangonstone tomorrow. So no. You can't."

Gendry knew exactly what Renly was thinking – 24 hours to persuade Edric to stay.

"I'll leave you lot to your dancing practice then. Be sure and let me know if you get on one of those X factor shows so I can vote you off." he sneered and with that he was gone.

-o-

Later that afternoon Edric Storm was treated to the full, double barrelled, Baratheon sales pitch.

Loras and Jon had taken Stannis golfing. Who knew the old misery was a golf fanatic? He had jumped at the chance to play at the Championship course where Renly and Loras maintained a very expensive membership. Penrose of all people was invited by Stannis to make up the fourball. It couldn't have worked out better for Renly and Lord Baratheon. They now had five hours alone with Edric to convince him that his future lay at Storm's End rather than Dragonstone.

The three of them sat drinking tea in the magnificent golden dining room at Storm's End. Renly liked his tea. Gendry liked the four tier cake stand.

Edric wasn't nearly as nervous sitting with the two of them as he'd been when Gendry had first met him at the funeral. That was probably due to the fact that Renly was a very, jovial, welcoming uncle and that hanging around with Stannis would put make anyone nervous. Gendry was trying to be a supportive big brother – but it was a role he'd never imagined having to play and he didn't think he was doing too well so far. He was finding it hard to think of Edric as his brother. The concept was just too alien. 26 years spent as an only child didn't really prepare you for the big brother role.

"So Edric, you must have just finished school. What are your plans now?" Renly wondered.

"Err, I'm still waiting on my results, but I think I'll do well. I applied to a few universities, so hopefully I'll be starting one of them in September."

"Oh? What courses did you apply for?" Renly asked as he poured them all a second cup. Renly did like to 'be mother' and take charge of the tea pot.

"Business management and marketing."

"Really?" Renly's face was a picture of delight. He was obviously impressed. Gendry couldn't help wondering about his uncle's reaction was when he found out Gendry was a mechanic. He felt a bit jealous that Edric's situation was more to Renly's liking. Proud of his half brother of course, but just a little bit jealous too.

"I've applied to a few of the Universities up north."

"Why not the London School of Economics, if you get the grades?"

Edric flushed bright red and nearly dropped his scone.

"Umm, with the fees and the accommodation, my mum and I thought it would be more affordable up north." He muttered. Obviously discussing money, while sitting in one of the richest castle's in Westeros with the CEO of Baratheon Enterprises and _Lord_ Baratheon was making the poor boy very uncomfortable. No wonder.

Gendry thought he could help.

"Look Edric, until a couple of months ago, I was getting a shitty salary as a mechanic. I'm still not used to all this, but Renly is a _very _generous uncle. He bought me an Aston Martin Vanquish."

"Really? Wow!" Edric gasped, his eyes lighting up.

Renly frowned at Gendry. Gendry wondered what the hell he had done wrong this time. Surely bloody Renly wouldn't treat Edric any differently?

"I don't think even Baratheon Enterprises could insure an 18 year old for a car like that." Renly snapped at Gendry.

"Of course you can have a car if you want one – just something more suitable to an 18 year old." Renly glared at Gendry again. Gendry had been about to suggest a Citroen DS3 with all the toys, but the warning looks Renly was sending made him shut up.

"I was thinking that an internship with Baratheon Enterprises, a flat in London and a degree from the London School of Economics might be more appropriate for you." Renly suggested, before sitting back to watch Edric's reaction to the big carrot that had just been dangled in front of him.

Edric opened his mouth, as if to jump at the chance, then shut it again before saying anything, then opened it again.

"Sounds good to me!" Gendry cheered, slapping Edric on the back. He was trying to help Edric out as the boy was still making like a fish.

"But…but…I didn't even apply there… and…. I'll need to ask my mum." Edric stammered.

"Oh, those are minor details, Uncle Renly will sort that out." Renly purred smoothly. "Baratheon Enterprises are one of the LSE biggest benefactors and I've no doubt they'll be _delighted_ to have a Baratheon as a student. Leave your mum to me – I can be _very_ persuasive." He gave Edric a glimpse of his most charming smile to prove his point.

Gendry could tell Edric was puzzled by the reference to the 'Baratheon' student.

"It's part of the deal Edric. I used to be plain old Gendry Waters, but now it's 'Baratheon' for me too. Just think of us all as one big happy family, or **pack **if you prefer." He grinned.

Renly's eyebrows shot up.

'Relax' Gendry whispered under his breath, so quietly that only Renly could hear. The boy would need to be told soon, but he already had enough to think about today.

"So, what do you think _brother_? Will you be staying here tomorrow or going back to Drangonstone with Stannis?" Gendry asked with a smirk. They all knew that Edric would have to be mad to choose dour Stannis and barren Dragonstone over charming, _generous _Uncle Renly and a flat in London.

"I'll stay thanks!" Edric gushed to the obvious delight of his uncle and half-brother.

"Great!" Gendry whooped and he was genuinely delighted that he'd have an opportunity to get to know his brother, and to get him a decent haircut.

"I think this call for some champagne!" Renly beamed.

"Well, you can either have some champagne with Renly or you can come and see an Aston Martin with me!" Gendry suggested wickedly.

Edric's eyes immediately lit up and he looked to his uncle Renly for approval.

"Oh, go on then!" Renly huffed in mock indignation, before adding impishly. "We can still celebrate with Stannis tonight!"

Gendry led his little brother out of the dinning room and towards the subterranean Storm's End garages.

"I've got a motorbike here too, the fastest production bike in the world. You're going to _love _it." Gendry told Edric proudly. Maybe this big brother thing wasn't going to be so hard after all.

-o-

Renly ensured Gendry was kept busy every single day. In addition to the etiquette lessons with Penrose and learning to control his inner wolf with Loras, Gendry had been given an impressive corner office in the Baratheon Enterprises headquarters at Canary Wharf. Renly told him he'd be expected to actually work there most days. Gendry had never wanted to be stuck in an office. Pushing papers around a desk, receiving endless e-mails and invites to endless meetings just wasn't him. He'd suspected as much at school and the very first day in the office had confirmed it. Now, one week in, he was bored, bored, bored.

Renly had arranged for him to be given the best Personal Assistant in the organisation, to help him learn the ropes. Val Wildling was sharp, smart and resourceful. She was also stunningly beautiful with long blonde hair and a figure like Jessica Rabbit. Renly had head hunted her from a rival company only a few months before, so according to Renly, she wasn't 'embedded in the organisational hierarchy' yet. Renly seemed to think this was a good thing and he'd have two 'game changers' working together. Gendry had realised his uncle was very fond of his corporate terminology – or 'bullshit' as Gendry preferred to call it.

Renly had warned him that Val could be a ball breaker if he stepped out of line, but Gendry had only found her to be endless patient - so far.

He sat looking at the piles of papers on his desk. Val maintained that Baratheon Enterprises ran a paperless office, but he had seen little evidence of that yet – or maybe it was all just dumped on his desk. In his idle moments (of which there were many) he did wonder if it was all some weird test thought up by Renly – see if he sinks or swims in the sea of paperwork and that Val might be some weird masochistic challenge thought up by Loras - give him the hottest babe in the building as his PA to test his self control. The truth was that he really wasn't interested in any woman except Arya. It was obviously, definitely love. It didn't matter how short Val's skirts were or how low her blouses, all he could think of, all of the time was Arya, and how he was going to win her back. That wasn't exactly helping his productivity. He did wonder if Renly might actually sack him for being so useless. He could only live in hope.

The phone on his desk buzzed interrupting his boredom. It was Val.

"There's a Lady here to see you. She won't give me her name. She says she's got something for you."

"Tell her to leave it with you. I'm busy" which was the biggest lie he'd told in a long time.

"She says she's got to give it to you personally." Val was sounding too bossy now. Who the hell was the boss here anyway?

"She's a very beautiful lady." Val added.

Maybe it was Arya?

"Send her in!" he demanded, his stomach lurching at the merest hope it could be Arya.

It wasn't, but it certainly was a beautiful lady; maybe mid thirties, experienced, sophisticated, dripping in designer clothes and heavy jewellery. She was immaculately dressed, not a hair of the golden curls that tumbled around her shoulders was out of place. Exactly the kind of woman he'd gone for in his wild years, before Arya came back into his life.

Although she had strutted into his office like a model working the catwalk, she literally stopped in her tracks as soon as she laid her brilliant green eyes upon him. They had to be contact lenses right? Nobody had eyes _that _green.

Gendry was used to certain appreciative reaction from women; blushes, shy smiles, double takes some times, but never shock. The woman looked like she'd seen a ghost.

Enjoying the feeling of power it gave him to have a sophisticated woman fall to pieces at the mere sight of him; he stood up and strolled around from behind his desk, offering her his hand.

"Lord Gendry Baratheon" he smirked, for once relishing his full title.

She blinked, composed herself more quickly than he expected, and accepted his handshake with cool, slim fingers.

"Cersei Lannister."

It was his turn to look shocked.

"What did you expect Gendry? That I'd be old and bitter like Robert? I was only 17 when my father married me off to Robert. It was just another business deal to them; me and a few million of working capitol, in exchange for twenty five percent of Baratheon Enterprises."

She dropped his hand and, without asking, strolled over to the drinks cabinet and poured herself a large Talisker. She had good taste in whisky at least.

"Want one?" she asked, as she lifted the glass to her own lips.

"No thanks. I'm not thirsty."

"I didn't offer you water Gendry." She smirked as she walked over to a chair.

She must be nearly forty but she was still a _very _attractive woman and didn't she know it? She was using ever trick in the book to try to get him hard and make him think with his dick. She rolled her hips as she walked past him, in cloud of expensive, musky perfume, flicking her long blond hair in his direction. As she sat down, her skirt was hitched higher, revealing long, slim, brown thighs and just a hint of stocking tops. She ran one long burgundy nail around the rim of her crystal whisky glass, lips slightly opened. She slowly slid that finger into her mouth and sucked. It was predictable as fuck, but any heterosexual man would have found the display 'interesting'.

"Want to hear about our wedding night?" She purred, regarding him thoughtfully over the top of her whisky glass. He wasn't sure if he wanted to or not, but she was obviously going to tell him anyway.

"He wouldn't even look at me, screwed me from behind. As he took my virginity, he was shouting for _her_." Cersei laughed ruefully "…and it was all down hill from there."

So it all came back to Lyanna Stark again.

Cersei swirled the whisky around the crystal glass before taking another slug. Gendry was transfixed.

"No doubt you think me a monster?" she asked. Thankfully she didn't wait for his reply before continuing "It was Robert who drove that 17 year old girl into the arms of the only man who'd ever loved her..."

"Jamie" Gendry finished for her.

Cersei smiled wickedly at the mention of her brother's, her lover's, name.

"So why are you here Cersei? I don't think you've come here just to tell me your side of the story." Gendry wondered as he sat on the edge of his huge walnut desk. That was a bad move. He was now looking down at her – straight down at her magnificent cleavage, and didn't she know it. She shimmed her shoulders slightly and leant forward. Fuck, he could just about see her navel.

"I have a business proposal for you."

"Why me and not Renly?" he asked, trying to look anywhere except down her dress and trying not to think about whether those huge, round tits were real or fake .

"We both know that you are the future of Baratheon Enterprises now. You and your kids."

At the mention of 'his kids' the warning bells that had been ringing in his ears since she had walked in, became sirens. This must have something to do with Arya. What did this bitch really want?

"Ok. Hit me with this business proposal." He crossed his arms and his legs as he perched on the edge of his desk. As soon as he'd done it he realised he'd made another mistake -classic defensive body language. He knew it and she knew it. She had him right where she wanted him. She was playing him like a fish on a hook. Was this how she manipulated his father, by using sex as her weapon?

"I will change my children's names to 'Lannister'. It won't be unexpected in the circumstances, given the divorce and Robert omitting them from his will."

Gendry allowed him self a slight smile. He wasn't his father and he certainly wasn't susceptible to that weapon between her legs.

"That's no proposal. I've got the DNA evidence to _make_ them change their name."

"But I don't want their true parentage splashed across the papers."

"Understandable." He agreed, smirking. "It would ruin you. And them. And Jaime."

"It would, _here_. I'd have to start again, South America maybe. But I don't want to put my children through that."

"I don't care what happens to _Joffrey Lannister_." He spat Joffrey's name out, but surprised himself by not adding Tommen and Myrcella's names to his list. When he thought about Cersei's two youngest children all he could see was them crying at Robert's funeral. Maybe he did care what happened to them. Nevertheless, he felt the momentum of the conversation had swung back in his favour, but what was her angle? He was about to find out.

"That's why I've brought you these."

Cersei didn't try and hide the gloating smirk that appeared on her face as she pulled out a thick, white A4 envelope from her huge designer handbag. He accepted it warily. It contained a sheaf of glossy, colour photographs. As the first one slid out of the envelope and he saw what it was, he had to try desperately to hide the shock and anger that engulfed him. Shit! Shit! Shit! But you've got to play it cool Gendry.

"So my **ex**-girlfriend and I liked a bit of kink. What's your point Cersei?"

"Keep going" she smirked.

He flicked through the next half dozen photographs. All of them were of the sun terrace of the penthouse suit at the Dorchester Hotel, apparently taken with a telephoto lens from another building. Shit! How could he have been so stupid? He'd thought the stripy canopies over the sun beds had shielded them from prying eyes, but someone had managed to get the right angle, from above and to the right.

The first one, the worst one, was of the four of them lying on the sun beds they'd pushed together. Hell, they weren't _lying_ on the sun beds. They were _fucking_ on the sun beds. He was fucking Arya from behind, Jon was doing the same to Daenerys and the two girls were kissing and touching each other. Shit! The rest of the photos were of Jon and Danni in various poses; blow jobs, him screwing her from behind as she leaned over the balcony, Danni making like a gymnast, with her leg held vertically in the air as Jon took her against a wall. Jon hadn't been kidding when he said she'd shagged his brains out.

"This is nothing to do with Baratheon Enterprises. I don't see what the big deal is." He shrugged, trying to play it so cool, when inside he was screaming.

"Look at the last one Gendry."

He flicked to the last photograph.

Fucking hell.

It was of the four of them again and _this one_ was even worse.

"Does Jon like your finger up his arse then?" she said it so matter-of-factly; she could have been asking how he liked his coffee.

There was no point in denying it, trying to explain that all he had done was tickle Jon's balls. _All he had done_. Shit. Shit. Shit. It was perfectly clear from the photograph that he had his hand between Jon's legs.

"Pretty sensational isn't it? You're screwing your _ex_-girlfriend, who's got a lesbian thing going on with Miss Daenerys Targaryen, little sister of a _very_ famous rock star, who, in turn is getting screwed by your bodyguard. Oh and he just happens to be your girlfriend's brother! I nearly forgot that bit! He's in a four-way with _his sister. _And just for good measure he's got Lord Baratheon's finger up his arse."

Gendry felt sick to the pit of his stomach. He could protest all he wanted that Jon had never touched Arya, had never even _looked_ at her that night, that they were actually technically cousins, but Cersei wouldn't care and it didn't alter the damning pictorial evidence. Please God, don't let her know about Danni being Jon's aunt.

"I'd love to see the look on Renly's and that Tyrell's face when you show them these. You can keep them. They're only copies after all."

Gendry wished the ground would open up and swallow him, wished that he could just disappear and pretend this whole fucking mess didn't exist. What the hell was he going to tell Renly?

_Control, Gendry, control. _

The look of smug satisfaction on her fucking Lannister face was too much to bear. What if he just ripped her throat out here and now? Could Loras pass it off as some sort of accident? But there were the photos. Someone, somewhere else had them too and killing Cersei wouldn't change that.

_Control. Regulate your breathing. Focus._

"And your proposal was?"

"You will never bring your DNA evidence into the public arena!" she demanded, her face twisted in a triumphant sneer. "The Baratheons will publicly acknowledge Joffrey, Tommen and Myrcella as Robert's children. My children will make no financial claim; make no claim on the title or Storm's End. They will acknowledge your right as Robert's first born son, but no-one will ever say or be able to prove they aren't Robert's children."

"Deal?"

He'd need to speak to Renly before agreeing to something like this.

"I'll need to think about it." He muttered darkly.

"Ok. Get back to me when you've spoken to Renly." She smirked, as if reading his mind.

"Are you finished?" He just wanted her out. Away. Her musky perfume and the smell of arrogance and triumph emanating from her every pore, was making him gag.

"No, not yet. I have another proposal for _you_." She stalked over to the drinks cabinet and refilled her whisky glass, making him wait. Her face was flushed now. Flushed with the alcohol or the power she thought she had over him?

"We both know Renly is the power behind the throne now, but _you_ are the future of Baratheon Enterprises. You and your children. My children will always have the 25% of Baratheon Enterprises that Robert gave my father in exchange for _my_ virginity and _my_ future." She glared at him, projecting all the resentment she held for her father and for Robert, onto him. Twenty years worth of her father's indifference, Robert's drunken groping, Jaime's jealousy and Renly's mockery. Twenty years of bile being spewed onto him.

"That must really piss you Baratheon boys off. There's 25% of Baratheon Enterprises that you can never get your hands on. The Lannisters will be a thorn in your side until hell freezes over. However, I'm prepared to offer you a deal that would see _my_ 25% transferred to the Baratheons forever."

So it was _her_ 25% now? He wondered what Tywin Lannister would think of that. Gendry was interested to hear about this deal. Perhaps this would be something he could take back to Renly to sweeten the blow of the goddamn pictures.

"I'll give the Baratheons that 25% on _one_ condition."

"Which is?"

"We have a child together. That child will be a Baratheon and will inherit everything; your 75%, _my_ 25%, Storm's End, the title. Everything."

"No fucking way."

_What the fuck?! A child? With her?_

"Think about it. I'll carry our child and when it's born I'll hand it over to you and Renly to raise at Storm's End. You acknowledge our child as your heir, obviously without disclosing who the mother is. You and Renly raise the child as your own and on its 21st birthday all Lannister stock is transferred to _our _child. 100% of Baratheon Enterprises in Baratheon hands."

"So you'll give away your child, have it raised as a Baratheon, taught to hate the Lannisters and then you'll give it millions in stock on its 21st Birthday? Why Cersei? What's in it for you?" He'd almost mentioned the werewolf thing too. Almost. A fucking Lannister Werewolf, now wouldn't that be something?

"I know Renly better than you seem to. He wants this child, wants it for the 25% it'll bring, but also wants it for himself. You ask him. You watch his reaction when you offer him _a child_. That child will not only inherit _all_ of Baratheon Enterprises, your title and castle, but everything Renly and that Tyrell shit have. Even if you have more kids with some cheap little tart, _my_ child will be first born and Renly will love it as if it were his own. I'll have the ultimate satisfaction of knowing that mychild, a Lannister, will ultimately receive what Robert and Renly conspired to steal away from me."

He thought _I will kill you if you call Arya a cheap little tart again, _but all he said was

"You're mad."

"And _you _better speak to Renly." She gloated.

She got up to go, flicking that fucking yellow hair and eyeing him with those fake green eyes as if he was a piece of meat.

"And one last thing Gendry darling. Call me traditional, old fashioned even, but no artificial insemination. We do it old style, or we don't do it at all."

His jaw nearly hit the floor. Did the woman have no shame? Obviously not.

As she opened the door to let herself out, he was surprised and relieved to see Loras perched on Val's desk, arms folded, obviously waiting for them. The Head of Baratheon Security stood up, stony faced, as soon as Cersei stepped out of Gendry's office.

"I'll escort you off the premises and don't try and come back." The menacing tone in Loras' voice conveyed the welcome she could expect if she tried.

"Still got that easy charm I see Tyrell" Cersei hissed, before strutting away as quickly as her high heels and tight skirt would allow.

Before Loras followed, he turned to Gendry, fixing him with a knowing glare and snarling 'Renly's on his way'.

Oh Great. No time to gather his shattered thoughts. Loras had presumably heard the last part of the conversation. Although the door to his office was thick and heavy, Gendry could usually hear what Val said, if he could be bothered to listen.

Gendry watched Cersei's skinny arse disappear, closely followed by Loras' menacing figure.

"Can I get you a cup of tea?" Val asked, concern written all over her normally implacable face.

"No thanks. I think this calls for something stronger."

Gendry closed his office door behind him, but he didn't walk straight to the drinks cabinet; he walked over to the window, resting his forehead against the cool glass and looking down at the tiny scurrying people and toy cars. Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

How was he going to explain this to Renly? He felt as if his brain had seized. Like an engine that should be running along sweetly, but had all of a sudden shut down. You could try and start it all you wanted, but you knew it was fucked. Like he was. Why couldn't he go back to engines and dirt and noise? He understood all that, _loved_ all that, he realised now. All this paper pushing was just bullshit. Now probably wasn't the best time to tell Renly he quit though.

He wasn't sure how long it was before Renly arrived. With his brain being seized, he couldn't tell. It might have been 20 minutes; it might have been no time at all.

Val buzzing him to tell him his uncle had arrived coincided with Renly opening the door. Gendry didn't turn around, the little people and the little cars were far too fascinating.

"What did she want?" Renly asked calmly. He was always so damn _in control_. So was Loras. Gendry felt like he was the only one whose world was spinning out of control.

"You'd better take a look at the photos on the desk" he heard himself say.

…

**Thank you, thank you, thank you dear readers. If you've stuck with Wolf's Helmet from the beginning, you've now read over 100,000 words. If you read Bull's Helmet first - 175,000! OMFG – how did that happen? When I struggled to write 5,000 words at school, I never imagined I'd **_**ever**_** manage this. Fanfic I love you! **

**Thank you all again and, if you can stick with this a while longer, there's still loads of good stuff to come, but the end is in sight. It's maybe off on the distant horizon, but we're getting there… **


	20. Chapter 20 - Black, White & Blue

**Chapter 20**

**Black, white & blue**

**I couldn't help but notice from last week's reviews (and thank you all very, very much as always) that you were not too keen on the possibility of a Gendry/Cersei pairing. Lol – that's an understatement! But I'm the boss here and, as I know that you're all masochists anyway, (come on – you've got to be if you're a GRRM fan) I'm going to turn the screw a little bit more with this… **

"Are you sure you don't want me to come in with you?" Brienne asked for the umpteenth time that morning.

"Yes, Brienne, I'm sure" Arya replied firmly. How on earth could you pitch a sale and ask for a job with a bodyguard standing beside you?

"I'll be right out here then. Waiting."

"Yes, Brienne. Thanks." Arya was beginning to get rather exasperated.

Brienne was so kind and protective - like a mother lion and took her job so seriously, that Arya knew she should be more tolerant of Brienne's overprotective hovering. However, everyone's patience had its limit and Arya was reaching hers.

"Remember and scream if you need me."

"Yes, Brienne, I will."

Without giving Brienne the chance to say anything else, Arya pushed one half of the black and white door open and walked into the gallery.

It appeared to be deserted. The floor was polished black wood, like ancient ebony. The walls were stark white, only punctuated by well spaced paintings, each one lit by a spotlight sunk into the ceiling. The only noise was the distant, low hum of an air conditioning unit. The gallery was 'cool' in ever sense of the word. Arya shivered slightly, unsure of whether it was caused by the drop in temperature or nerves.

As there was no-one around she thought she might as well have a browse. Presumably the gallery owner was well used to visitors like her, who had no intention of buying anything.

There was a real mix of styles, sizes and prices of paintings on display. Arya walked slowly past unremarkable landscapes, seascapes, still lifes until she stopped in front of one particular painting that caught her eye.

It was of a man, a very handsome man, relaxing on a chair. What initially caught her eye was his clothing. He was wearing the uniform of an officer in the Union army from the American Civil. The execution and detail of the uniform were superb, but what took her breath away were the man's bright blue eyes and the faint halo around his head. She knew instantly whose eyes she was reminded of, but why would a Union soldier have a halo? She could stare at that painting for hours, years maybe and still never have enough.

"What does a girl think?" A soft, heavily accented, voice asked from somewhere behind her.

She jumped involuntarily. Before she could turn around to address the speaker he murmured, closer now

"Don't turn around. Regard the painting and speak."

"All right." She replied hesitantly. This man behind her was presumably the gallery owner and she knew she would need to impress him if she wanted a job.

"Oil on Canvas. Technically it's very well executed and the muted colour tone is…"

"Not what is merely seen" he interrupted "What a girl thinks _and feels_."

He was so close now that she could feel his breath on the side of her neck. Arya closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"It's joyful – like there's a choir of angels behind him, but it could also make me cry. What moves me is the juxtaposition of the soldier and the halo, the relatively modern and the biblical."

"And why the Union soldier?"

Arya hadn't worked that out herself, but this was a test she had to pass. _Don't panic_ she told her self, but panic leant her mind wings. He obviously wanted her opinion and, as her _opinion _couldn't be wrong, she blurted out

"Perhaps the artist was referencing something like 'In God we trust' – that originated around the time of the Civil war didn't it?"

No reply. He wanted her opinion and obviously wasn't going to answer her question. He was waiting for more.

"Something to do with slavery? Maybe the artist is just playing with us? With God on our side?" she felt she was babbling, getting desperate. But he laughed and instantly the tension in the air was dissipated. He had a wonderfully melodic laugh.

"Perhaps the artist is a Bob Dylan fan?!"

Desperate to see what her tormentor looked like, she turned around to find a smiling man, his eyes still laughing – but she wasn't sure whether he was laughing with her or at he. He wasn't much taller than she was, but good looking in a dishevelled, bohemian sort of a way. It was hard to put an age to him. He had creases around his eyes and mouth as he laughed, and a white streak at the front of his hair, but the rest of his hair was a deep red. His blue/grey eyes twinkled with mischief and he was exotic looking – eastern European perhaps, with a strong accent she couldn't place.

"Jacqen H'ghar" he grinned as he held out his hand. He had very white, straight teeth and his wide smile made him look younger than she had first thought.

"Arya Stark." She smiled back, noticing he had very long, slim artistic fingers, with bent thumbs that she found rather attractive. Oh God, how could thumbs be attractive? Calm down Arya. You're here on business.

"Would a girl like to buy?" he nodded to the painting.

Arya hadn't even looked for a price or an artist's name.

"I would, but I can't afford it." That was true. Whatever the cost was, even if it was £50, she couldn't afford it. His face fell and she got a rather sudden and strange urge to hug him and apologise for not buying it.

"But I do have a business proposal for you…" she babbled.

He sighed.

"This man is not interested in whatever a girl is selling" and he walked off. Just like that.

"No, no, I'm not selling anything." She scurried after him, but he kept walking. He was wearing a crumpled linen suit and he had shoes on but no socks; very artistic, very European.

"I have a friend who is interested in the painting of the Werewolf in the front window."

Shit! She had meant to say 'wolf', _the painting of the wolf_, but he had her so flustered she had blurted out what she was thinking.

He stopped and turned around to look at her with those enigmatic eyes.

"_Werewolf_." He rolled the word around his mouth as if he had never uttered it before. Her heart was pounding. Did he suspect? Did he know that Werewolves were real and that she intended to bring one to his gallery to buy that painting?

"That had never occurred, but a girl is right… and perceptive."

The smile and the laughing eyes were back. Arya allowed herself to breathe again. Of course he didn't suspect. Who in their right mind thought Werewolves existed? Who would believe they walked among us in human form?

"This friend…?" Jaqen wondered

"He…ah…hasn't seen it yet, but he's very rich and I know he'll buy it once he sees it." Oh God, this sounded so pathetic. She sounded like a little girl gossiping about a vague acquaintance.

"And he will come here?"

"Yes, I will bring him and he'll buy it. I know he will, but…." And here came her proposition, the crux of the matter. She _had _to make this work. This was her only option, the only way to earn money and avoid going, cap in hand, to beg from her father, Gendry, Renly or even Robb.

"…I want commission!" There, she'd said it!

He regarded her thoughtfully. He didn't say no. He didn't say anything, but crucially, he didn't say no. Her hope blossomed.

"Upstairs. Coffee. A man and a girl will talk."

Arya had to scurry after him again as he didn't wait for her to agree, he just went.

The staircase was all wood and glass. The treads were the same polished black ebony as the ground floor, but were suspended on an intricate and almost invisible arrangement of steel wires and glass. It was quite disconcerting walking up to the mezzanine level. This area didn't seem to be part of the gallery. It looked as if it was used as an office. There were several paintings leaning against one wall, as if waiting to be hung, but mostly it was stark white, with a big, uncluttered desk. Jaqen busied himself with an industrial sized, art deco style, coffee machine.

Dozens of different masks hung on the white wall behind his desk. The was everything from an African witchdoctor's mask to an original movie prop of the Green Goblin's mask from the Spiderman movies and everything in between. In the centre, directly behind and above his chair were beautifully painted black and white masks; comedy and tragedy again, similar to the ones on the doors of his gallery.

Once Jaqen finished making the coffee he stood, with two tiny espresso cups in his hands watching her stare at his collection.

Eventually Arya became aware of the silence and of his eyes upon her.

"Oh Sorry! I was just admiring your collection." She mumbled, suddenly self conscious, wondering how long he had been watching her.

"A man has his interests." He shrugged, allowing a slight smile to play across his lips.

For a minute Arya wondered if he was talking about collecting masks or looking at her then, thinking she was being paranoid, she smiled and took one of the tiny cups from him. She had to stop being so uptight and relax, after all, why would he be remotely interested in her? He was a sophisticated, artistic, cultured older man and she was just a naive girl, desperate to cut a deal.

She sat down, sinking into the big, soft black leather sofa facing his desk and sipped her coffee. Bloomin' hell that was strong! But she took one sip after another as she was nervous and he was re-arranging some papers and the MacBook Pro on his desk before sitting down.

When he did sit down he pressed those long, artistic fingers to his mouth and just looked at her, a half smile playing on his lips and creases appearing at the corners of his eyes. Was he laughing at her? Was he waiting for her to give him a presentation? She took another sip of the bitter coffee, but still he didn't move. Ok, he was waiting on her. Here goes nothing.

She put the coffee cup on the floor, beginning to feel her heart racing from the unaccustomed caffeine hit. She smoothed her skirt and crossed her legs. She noticed his eyes flicker to her legs and the half smile on his lips widen slightly. Shit! Could he see her stocking tops? She felt a burning flush rise up from her neck to her face.

She hadn't been able to find any tan coloured tights this morning. That wasn't the kind of thing she usually wore, but she had wanted to be smart and business-like today and had thought bare legs too casual. All she'd had in a natural colour were the bloody Agent Provocateur stockings and suspenders Gendry had bought her. She hadn't thought anyone would notice, but it seemed Jaqen had. Shit! She couldn't pull her dress further down without standing up and tugging at it and how bloomin' obvious would that be?! Oh well, if he'd seen them, he'd seen them now and she might as well carry on.

"The price you're looking for is £120,000." She stated matter-of-factly. Trying to forget her stockings and his wandering eyes and act like a business lady.

Jaqen nodded almost imperceptibly.

"I want 20 percent."

His eyebrows shot up. She noticed they were also dark red. He either had a very unusual hair colour or a very thorough hair colourist. She wondered if his body hair was also dark red. Bloomin' hell Arya! Get your mind back in the job!

"I know it's a lot, but I know you've been trying to sell that painting for a long time and £86,000 in your pocket _this week_, is better than the painting sitting in your window for another year."

She thought the prospect of a quick sale would be an incentive. She only hoped Renly would come when she called. Loras had already as much as confirmed Renly _would _buy the painting, when he had given her the lecture in the café. He had said it was all Baratheon money, whether it was commission or the bloody metal credit card. Loras might not see a distinction, but she did. Negotiating the commission obviously wasn't going to be straightforward and she felt like she was working for her money already.

"10 percent for this week. 5 for later." Jaqen countered.

Ten percent was still good - £12,000 and it would just _have _to be this week. She'd lie to Renly; tell him anything she had to, in order to get him here. Arya already knew she would settle for 10 percent, but she pushed for more,

"I'll go to 10 percent as long as you give me a job too."

Was it her imagination or did his eyes just shoot to her legs again?

After a long silence, during which he took a few delicate sips of his espresso and she fidgeted with her dress, trying surreptitiously to pull it down, he spoke

"For a job - commission only. 5 percent."

"15 percent!" she countered, feeling a wave of relief wash over her. She had a job. The wages, or lack of them, didn't matter much to her right now. _She had a job!_

"10 percent" he grinned, showing those lovely white teeth. They both knew she would accept that and the deal was done. She jumped up and was going to hold out her hand so they could shake on the deal, but she realised the desk was too wide for her to reach him. He got up and walked back around to her side. The two of them stood facing each other, her awkwardly, smoothing her dress down, not knowing what to do next; him smiling and seeming to enjoy the fact that she was pleased, but also that he made her feel unsure and awkward.

He reached across and took her hand to shake it, but his fingers brushed against her dress and she was acutely aware of the suspender against her thigh. Did he just cop a feel?

He was shaking her hand and smiling and acting as if nothing had happened. He was just congratulating her on her new job wasn't he? Maybe she imagined it.

"A man can teach a girl many things, if a sweet girl wishes to learn."

Arya nodded eagerly.

It was only afterwards, when she thought about his expression when he offered to teach her; the heavy lidded eyes, the knowing smirk that played across his lips, that she wondered _what _he was intending to teaching her. About art and running a gallery, she assumed at the time, but later, when it was dark and she was alone, replaying the scene over in her mind, she wasn't quite so sure that was all he'd meant.

She promised to call Jaqen as soon as she had spoken to her rich friend. Jaqen took a call as she was leaving and she made her own way down the precarious stairs. She wanted to take another look at the painting of the Union soldier again before she left. She felt as if she had £12,000 burning a hole in her pocket already. She decided she would need to buy it, if it was remotely affordable.

As she approached the solider again, she felt her stomach flip. It was His eyes, blue and glacial as spring snow melt lakes in Winterfell. God how she missed those eyes.

Trying to forget Him, she looked for a price. There wasn't one, but Jaqen had asked her if she wanted to buy it – so it must be for sale. She had a quick look at the paintings to the left and right. They had little white cards underneath with the prices on. Eventually he saw, written on the top of the frame itself, 'The Archangel Gabriel'. She shivered again and this time it definitely wasn't the air conditioning. She peered closer, looking for the artist's name on the painting. There it was, in tiny, neat gold letters – J. H'ghar. Wow. Really? She looked up at the mezzanine hoping to see him, but she could hear him still talking on the phone. Next time then.

As she walked out of the cool gallery, into the warm summer sun, Brienne was waiting expectantly

"So?"

"I need to phone Renly!" Arya whooped! Before remembering the door might not even have been fully closed behind her. She covered her mouth with embarrassment. What if Jaqen had heard that?

Brienne laughed. "I think half of London heard that!"

Brienne already had her phone in her hand and was pressing buttons.

"I spoke to Loras while you were inside. They're waiting on your call."

Arya rolled her eyes. Why did Brienne have to be quite so efficient? Arya took the phone and smiled her thanks to a satisfied looking Brienne.

Arya walked away from the gallery's window as she heard the ringing at the other end. Renly answered the phone on the third ring.

"I can meet you at the gallery 3pm Thursday." He told her smoothly, before she'd even had a chance to say 'Hello its Arya'.

"Errr, great, thanks Renly. See you then."

She was about to hang up when Renly spoke again

"Just bear in mind – _Quid pro quo._"

"Eh? What?" she asked, feeling at a complete disadvantage. Renly knew it was her calling from Brienne's phone before she'd even uttered a word, he had the arrangements in place and now he was speaking in riddles.

He exhaled loudly down the phone.

"I don't know where you and Gendry went to school, but, for the love of God, please don't send _your_ kids there."

Arya had to laugh as she imagined young Renly in his posh private school shorts, blazer and cap being packed off to Winterfell High School on an exchange trip to see how the other half lived.

"I see you're still wearing those rose tinted glasses Renly. _We _won'tbe having kids and I'm not taking _Him _back." She replied firmly.

"_We'll see_." She could tell Renly was smirking at the other end of the phone. "Let me put it simply for you Arya – you scratch my back and I'll scratch yours."

It was her turn to groan.

"What do you want Renly?" but she knew exactly what he wanted before she even asked. He wanted a happy family under his thumb. He wanted her married to Gendry and churning out lots of little Baratheons, filling Storm's End with little black haired, blue eyed baby Werewolves.

"We can discuss it on Thursday. I'm looking forward to it!" and she could hear that smirk down the phone again before he hung up.

"I've got more good news Arya!" Brienne was obviously bursting to tell her something. "When I spoke to Loras earlier he told me Renly has some sweet deal going down with Cersei Lannister."

"Really?" Arya was genuinely shocked. She had only ever heard Joffrey's mum spoken of as an evil incarnate and now Renly was cutting a deal with her? Arya wanted to know what on earth had tempted Renly to deal with the devil, but Brienne didn't know much.

"They've agreed a temporary truce, while they work out details. So, we've been downgraded from red alert to yellow and that means I can have some time off for a change!"

Hearing the delight in her voice made Arya feel guilty.

"I'm sorry you had to do all this Brienne, but I want you to know I appreciate everything you've done for me."

Brienne grinned. "Yeah, no worries. I bet you could even run around the block now if you had to!"

Arya grinned back "And then some! I even thought I saw some abs today. Well, one anyway!" she patted her flatter stomach. It had only been a couple of weeks, but she could see differences already. Her thighs and her bottom were firmer, her arms more defined. She was thinking she might even buy some Gwen Stefani type midriff baring tops when she got her first commission payment.

"I think we should celebrate tonight - your new job and my time off. I could even have a drink! And I know just the place!" Brienne was grinning like a Cheshire cat now.

"And where's that?" Arya asked, trying to imagine a drunken Brienne. The mental image wasn't pretty.

"Remember that band you told me about - Fire and Blood? They're playing at The Tourney again tonight and they're head lining this time. Let's go see them!"

Arya had been raving about them to everyone she knew, but mostly to Brienne, since He had taken her to their gig.

"Awww, Brienne that would have been great, but there's no way we'll get tickets now." Arya groaned. A night out getting drunk and jumping around to Fire and Blood sounded as if it would have been exactly what they both needed.

"Yeah, it's sold out, but here's the best bit – I made a few calls while you were in the gallery and it turns out that The Tourney is run by a management company owned by Baratheon Enterprises. I spoke to the right people and we're on the guest list."

"Really?" Arya was incredulous - Baratheon Enterprises could get you into the hottest gig in town. She added it to the list of good things that had come out of the whole sorry mess; friendship with Brienne, free taxis, maybe a big fat commission cheque and now free tickets to see Fire and Blood. Perhaps things were looking up.

"You'll soon learn that B.E have fingers in almost every pie somewhere and being Renly's right hand woman 'encourages' people to open a few doors." Brienne beamed with pride.

"Well, let's go get ready then!" Arya yelled. It was still only lunch time, but she could feel a Brienne makeover coming on and that was probably going to take quite a while!

-o-

Due to the stand down in security, they had to take a taxi to The Tourney. Arya wasn't sure if it now felt like a treat or an inconvenience. She was surprised how quickly she'd got used to a car being available 24 hours a day.

Brienne was going to go and visit her parents in Tarth at the weekend, but as she didn't have a place in central London, they had agreed that Brienne would stay with Arya for a few days before she left.

The make over hadn't been much of a success. None of Arya's clothes fitted Brienne. All Arya had that would fit, were Gendry's black Kawasaki T shirt and his bike jacket. Arya did make Brienne try the jacket on, but that just made her look even more manly than usual. Brienne's wardrobe consisted of work and work out gear only and they didn't have time for a shopping trip. Arya doubted whether Brienne would have agreed to one anyway. So they settled on a cream t shirt, with a V neck, which actually made Brienne look like she had some breasts, shiny black running leggings, which showed off her muscley legs, but which Arya managed to convinced Brienne were 'curvy', black Converse and a black hoodie. The clothes were unintentionally a bit 'goth', but when Arya artfully mussed up her short blond hair and did a passable job on some subtle make up, the overall effect was pretty cool. It had taken a long time to do, for not much difference Arya thought, but Brienne seemed pretty pleased and, as they'd finished a bottle of Pinot Grigio between them doing it, Arya considered it a good result.

Arya was feeling a bit tipsy and her own clothes, face and hair had been a rather drunken, rush job. She'd just thrown on exactly what she'd worn to the last gig; the backless top, skin tight leather trousers, high boots and, of course, His jacket. She really didn't have anything else suitable to wear to a gig - designer clothes and The Tourney simply didn't go. Although the jacket still smelled of him, it was of oil and aftershave and old leather, not the new smell of animal Gendry, fucking Werewolf Gendry. The old smell reminded her of how things used to be. As she looked at herself in the mirror, trying not to cry about what might have been; could have been if he hadn't been such a stupid, selfish bastard, she noticed his ring flash in the mirror. She had been intending to take it off for days, particularly since Loras had teased her about it at lunch. She had to _really_ try not to cry now as, in her overly emotional, rather drunken state, removing his ring seemed to signal the very end. The point of no return. She sniffed and deliberately wiped her nose on the sleeve of his jacket. Stupid bastard.

She shoved the ring in her pants drawer and slammed the drawer shut as quickly as she could. Hopefully they'd have time for another glass of P.G. before the taxi arrived.

Just as Arya had before with Him, she walked up to the head of the queue outside The Tourney, watched by a long line of envious eyes.

Once they were in, Arya saw the skinny young boy who had kept Gendry's precious Bull Helmet safe before, manning the cloak room. This time she didn't intend to check her jacket, but as soon as the skinny boy saw her, he called over

"Miss Stark!"

Shocked that he recognised her and knew her name, she hurried over.

"Griff said if it _was_ you on the guest list, I had to give you these."

The boy dug around under the counter top and pulled out two very official looking, laminated backstage passes on red and gold ribbons.

"He told me I had to make sure you knew to go back stage after the gig. There's a party tonight."

Arya took the two passes gratefully.

"I'm amazed you remembered me." She smiled.

"Oh, it wasn't hard. Griff just told me to look for the most beautiful woman I'd see all night and it would be you." His spotty, adolescent face turned scarlet as he said it.

Arya felt hers turn the same shade.

"Huh? Really?" She stammered. "Griff said that?"

The boy nodded.

Sansa was the most beautiful women anyone ever saw, not her. She'd had to listen to that all her life. Perhaps the standard wasn't very high in The Tourney.

Arya hurried back to Brienne clutching her prize.

"We've got an invite to the backstage party too!"

Brienne started to sing '_I've gotta a feeling, whoo hoo, tonight's gonna be a good night, that tonight's gonna be a good, good night_!' as they climbed the stairs to the gig.

The show the band put on was just as good as before, but it wasn't the same for Arya. Although she recognised most of the songs this time and Griff was, if anything, even better at ringing every last drop of passion out of the crowd, she missed Him.

Brienne didn't want them to risk the crowd, so she and Arya stood off to the side, near the bar and it just wasn't the same as being in the jumping, dancing horde with Gendry. How could it be the same without him? He had been the best part of the whole thing; riding here on his bike, having him wrap her in his arms, keeping her safe from the mad dancers and meeting all his friends. She wouldn't even have known Fire & Blood existed if it wasn't for Gendry. She searched the crowd for him several times during the gig; despite knowing he wasn't there. Brienne had told her as much but, as the Jack Daniels and coke took effect, she began wishing she would see him, pushing through the crowd to get to her, coming to scoop her up and tell her everything was going to be alright, but of course he never came.

The other down side to standing near the bar, was that she drank way more than she should have. Jack and black on top of P.G. wasn't a good mix and there was no Gendry to tell her when to stop either. It didn't seem to matter how much Brienne drank, she still looked the same, but Arya knew she was really too drunk by the time the gig ended to be going to another party, but Brienne seemed desperate to go, so they headed backstage as the lights came up and the rest of the crowd dispersed. Arya looked for the shirtless Winterfell boys amongst the sweaty hordes, but she couldn't see them either.

As she sipped yet another Jack and black backstage and listened to some middle aged executive a suit talk about the impending 'roll out of the product' in America, she felt the atmosphere suddenly change. It was as if someone had sent an electric charge through the room. All eyes turned to the door. Even the suit shut up, mid sentence.

As Griff strode through the door there was a spontaneous burst of applause and whooping. The boys in the band following behind acknowledged the adulation by grinning like idiots, 'high fiving' some of the men and embracing more of the women. As the crowd parted for him, Griff ignored them all, striding purposefully through the room, a long red and gold coat billowing out behind him. Tall, lean and pale, with the blue hair, low slung, tight leather trousers and his band's three headed dragon emblazoned on his tight T shirt, he looked ever inch the rock star he was fast becoming. However, it was his eyes that had Arya transfixed. They were rimmed with smudged black eye liner and their violet hue was amplified by the blue of his hair. They were constantly scanning the room, searching for something or someone. He was obviously a man on a mission.

When his eyes found hers, she felt as if a million volts had arced across the room. She was so shocked and frozen to the spot, she was startled by Brienne's elbow in her ribs.

"He's coming for you!"

Arya gulped.

"I know."

He was aiming for her like a heat seeking missile, locked on target, ignoring the attempts of everyone he passed to talk to him.

"Oh dear." Arya muttered under her breath.

"I think I'm gonna leave you two for a while." Brienne hissed. She walked away as Griff closed the last few strides between him and his goal.

He took Arya's hand and kissed it, just as he had the first time they'd met, only this time there was no Gendry to pull her away.

Arya could only stand and stare as soft lips kissed her hand and all the while his magic eyes never left hers.

"My lady Arya" he murmured when his lips finally left her hand

Arya couldn't even speak. She just nodded.

"Where's The Bull tonight?"

She shrugged.

"We kind of split up."

Eyebrows raised that were definitely blonde, not blue. Lips curled into a smile that was definitely very attractive.

"Kind of…?" he echoed.

He had nice mouth, slightly cruel, but the lip gloss he seemed to be wearing made it look very kissable. Arya couldn't help wondering what it would be like to kiss a man who wore more make up than she did.

"Let's get out of here." he said impulsively.

She was caught off guard. Leave now? With him? To go where?

"But you only just got here and this is your party. You can't just leave!"

The smile vanished. He frowned and the violet eyes seemed to change colour as quickly as his mood. They were now the colour of the sky before an electric storm; grey, blue and purple.

"I can do whatever I want and right now I want to talk to _you._ Alone."

Was he asking her or telling her? She folded her arms. He was going to have to do better that that.

Realising he was in danger of getting a refusal, he obviously re-thought his strategy. Pulling a crumpled packet of French cigarettes out of his coat pocket, he wearily put one between those glossy lips before offering the packet to her.

She screwed up her nose. He shrugged and shoved the packet back in his coat pocket before fishing around for his lighter. He languidly lit the cigarette and after taking a long drag, looked up at the ceiling and blew the smoke out of the corner of his mouth.

He was so bloomin' cool that Arya had to remind herself she hated smoking. With him it just added to the whole Rock Star vibe.

"Just a drive Arya. I'm not going to bite you. What do you say?"

He took another drag and again blew the smoke up to the ceiling.

A drive couldn't hurt, could it? Besides she could do with some fresh air.

"Ok then, but I need to tell my friend."

He looked pleased she had agreed, but impatient to go.

"Where is she?"

Arya pointed to Brienne, standing head and shoulders above a group of men.

Griff dragged her by the hand over to Brienne and almost pushed Arya in front of her.

"Errr, Griff wants to go somewhere and talk."

"Aww, I don't want to go now. I'm having fun." Brienne groaned.

This was awkward.

"Errr…just me and him."

"Oh." Brienne looked hurt.

Griff rolled his eyes impatiently and shouted to a man who had his back to them.

"Oi! Duck!"

The man who turned around was almost as wide as he was tall, with a shock of orange hair, shaggy beard and arms like tree trunks. Arya recognised him as the drummer from Fire and Blood.

"Duck, I want to introduce you to…" he looked to Brienne who giggled her name.

Brienne giggling?

"Take care of her." Griff winked to Duck, who was already staring up at Brienne with something like awe and worship on his face.

"You gonna be ok?" Brienne asked Arya, while eyeing Griff suspiciously. "He doesn't look very _safe_."

Griff answered before Arya could.

"Chillax Brian" he drawled. "I'll look after her for you."

"_It's Brienne!" _

"Whatever." Griff drawled, earning him a kick in the shin from Arya and a death stare from Brienne, forcing him to reluctantly mutter 'Ok. Brienne' under his breath.

Brienne didn't look happy, but as Griff draped his long, lean arm around Arya's shoulder, as if staking his claim, and as Arya let him, there was much Brienne could do about it.

As Griff steered her towards the door, he whispered into her ear,

"Duckfield loves big women. He'll show big Brienne a good time tonight. Guaranteed."

Arya looked back over her shoulder and his arm to see Brienne already laughing heartily at something Duck had said. Brienne was glowing. Arya had never seen her look so relaxed. Well, if Brienne couldn't look after herself, what hope was there for anyone else? Arya had a feeling she should be more concerned for her own safety. Griff seemed like a guy who was used to getting his own way and wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.

At the back of The Tourney, under the spotlights of the loading bay, the roadies were wheeling equipment into the back of a huge, black truck. As they shouted greetings over to Griff, he waved his cigarette at them in acknowledgement. Once they had passed, several of them gave Arya wolf whistles. She giggled – if only they new how appropriate that was. But she didn't like the next comment. Just as they were walking around the front of the truck, into the darkness, one of the roadies bellowed 'Give her one for me!'

Arya stopped dead in her tracks. Is that all he thought she was - another one of his groupies? Why the hell had she agreed to leave with him so easily anyway?

"What's the matter?" he muttered as she stopped and his arm rolled off her shoulder.

"I'm not sleeping with you Griff!"

He smirked and dropped his fag on the ground, crushing it out with the pointed toe of his boot.

She was standing with her back to the big truck. He placed one hand flat against the cab door of the truck and took a step towards her. He was so close now that she could smell the nicotine off his breath.

"_Not ever?_" he asked, a lazy smile playing across his lips. In the near dark, his pale skin almost shone and there was a wicked gleam in his lilac eyes.

She looked up at him defiantly.

"_Not tonight_."

He grinned, liking her answer.

"_I didn't expect you too_." He inclined his head slightly, leaned forward and paused, his lips only a few centimetres from hers. She could have turned her head away, but she didn't. She wanted to find out how lip gloss tasted on a man or a boy or a rock star, or whatever the hell he was.

It tasted of Jack Daniels and nicotine, soft, slippery and dangerous.

When she felt his tongue inside her mouth she pushed him away. He pretended to be offended and staggered backwards, clutching his heart.

"Aaargh. You wound me Lady Arya!"

She couldn't help laughing as he very slowly collapsed to his knees, then backwards onto the ground, his face contorted in pretend death throes, all the while groaning dramatically.

"You'd better get up and take me home!" She yelled, after he stopped twitching and lay still, playing dead.

He slowly opened one eye, grinned and held his hand out for her to help pull him up. As she took it, he yanked her forward so she overbalanced and collapsed on top of him. He caught her as she fell, wrapping his arms around her and laughing as she shrieked. Her hair was everywhere and she could feel his cool, strong fingers under her jacket, on the bare skin of her back and his hard, lean body under hers. She was acutely aware of her leather trousers against his and his solid chest under her hands which were trapped between them as he hugged her.

"See, I knew you'd fall for me eventually!"

"Let me go Griff!"

He sighed dramatically and shifted his legs. She thought he was getting up, but somehow her legs were suddenly on either side of his and she was straddling him, feeling his hip bones prominent against the inside of her thighs and the zip of his leather trousers pressing against her pubic bone. That zip seemed hell of a hard. Anyone watching would have thought they were doing it, right there on the ground beside the truck.

"Griff!" she yelled and this time he let her roll off him. She scrambled to her knees and stood up unsteadily.

He was lying on his side now, on the ground, in the car park, head propped up on his elbow.

"You know, you should have more fun Arya. Stop acting like an old, married lady and live while you're young." He smirked.

"That's not my idea of fun!" she huffed, before stomping off in the direction they had been heading.

As she walked around the front of the tuck she saw a flat, wide, red Ferrari – it had to be his. God, what was it with men and fast cars _and she wasn't an old married lady! _– at least not yet.

He caught up with her and held the passenger door open for her, bowing low and extending his arm with a flourish.

"Your chariot Lady Arya"

She tried to look angry and draw him a dirty look, but it was hard to stay angry at him. When he smiled he was like a big, gangly puppy, with magic eyes.

She had to tuck herself into the passenger seat as it was so low and cramped. No wonder Gendry got a bigger car. Thinking about Him brought on pangs of guilt. She could imagine the hurt on his face if he had seen her rolling around the ground with Griff and getting into his Ferrari. But hey, it was only a kiss and a lift home, and anyway, it was Gendry who had messed everything up between then, not her. Griff was Jon's friend as well, so it was just a lift home with a friend. Well, a friend of a friend.

When Griff started the engine she realised what all the fuss was about. _Nothing else_ sounded like that. It was like sitting on rumbling thunder; actually it was like sitting _in _rumbling thunder.

The tires squealed and the engine howled as Griff tore out of the car park. Arya imagined the roadies whooping and hollering their approval behind them.

There were still some stragglers hanging around the front of The Tourney and as the Ferrari screamed past, she saw one person after another do a double take. Let's face it, with the blue hair and the Supercar, Griff was pretty hard to mistake.

Arya told him where her flat was.

For a long time she thought he was ignoring her. She was just about to tell him again when he replied.

"I heard you." His eyes never left the road and he was driving _very_ fast.

"Errr, are you not worried you get done for speeding?" she asked nervously.

He shrugged.

"You're on a high after a gig. There's got to be some kind of come down; drink, drugs, _sex…_" He looked across at her and grinned slyly.

Oh dear. He didn't still expect that, did he? She'd only kissed him on impulse and although she was pretty drunk she wasn't about to fall into bed with him, even if he was sex on legs.

Her expression must have given her thoughts away as he smirked

"…but I like to drive. The roads are quiet; I can open her up and let this engine sing to me." He sounded wistful when he said it and far older than he looked.

"How old are you?" she blurted out.

"Twenty."

Same as her, but he was so different to any other boy/man her age. He had unlimited self confidence, who was she kidding – _arrogance,_ and yet he'd rather drive than stay at his own party. Perhaps it was because he had already achieved so much, so young. He was going to tour America with his band and he had the world at his feet. What had she done? Not even finished her degree. Oh well, she'd finally got her first job, she thought proudly. It wasn't quite the same as embarking upon world domination, but it was enough for her. For now.

"So you said you wanted to talk to me. What did you want to talk about?" she asked.

"How's Jon?" he asked as he swung the car expertly around another tight bend.

"Ummm." God, she still hadn't spoken to Jon since Winterfell, since he'd left her in Maesters Hospital to bugger off with Gendry.

"He's fine" she muttered.

"The bastard's not answered any of my calls and he's usually always looking to scrounge free tickets. So is Gendry and I haven't heard from either of them for weeks. I'm worried something's wrong."

It was the first time she'd heard him sound anything other than supremely arrogant. He sounded genuinely worried.

Arya didn't want to have to explain _anything_ about what had happened since they had last been at The Tourney. God, just thinking about it made her head hurt. Jon had killed a man that night, saving her life, Gendry had been bitten by his bloody Werewolf father and Jon had found out he wasn't the Bastard of Winterfell after all – or at least not the Bastard he thought he was. You couldn't make it up.

"How did you meet Jon?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Through Daenerys. Didn't he tell you?"

Oh Shit! And _that night_ had happened as well. How well did Griff know Danni she wondered? Presumably Danni wouldn't have told anyone about it? But then Danni seemed to be rather less inhibited than most people. Arya felt herself squirming with embarrassment. Did Griff know about what she'd got up to with Danni?

"No. When do you go to America?" she asked, desperate to change the subject _again_.

"Two weeks."

"How long for?" she asked yawning.

"Do I really excite you that much Arya?" he asked sarcastically.

"Sorry, but it's been a long day."

"A month initially. We've got gigs here before we go and more booked here in the autumn, but the plan is to keep touring The States until we break it – you gotta keep playing live there, and there's radio, local TV and stuff."

"I love America. Everyone's got such a PMA"

"Positive Mental Attitude?" He grinned across at her.

"Yeah" she grinned back, snuggling down further into the bucket seat. She was beginning to feel sleepy. Still a bit drunk, but sleepy too.

He drove on in silence for a while and, she was pleased to note, more slowly. She shut her eyes, enjoying listening to the engine sing to her too.

"You should come with me."

She opened her eyes and shook her head a bit, to try and waken herself up.

"Pardon?"

"I just said - you _could_ come with me."

"I hardly know you Griff. You seem like a nice guy and all, but…"

"_Nice guy?_" he sneered "No you don't know me at all" and he put his foot down and the engine immediately screamed.

"For God's sake Griff!" she yelled, but he ignored her and continued to drive like a maniac until she had to shout at him to give him directions to her flat. He _had_ to slow down to negotiate the roads he didn't know, for which Arya was _very_ gratefully.

As he screeched the Ferrari to a stop outside her flat, she couldn't get out the car quick enough. She was standing at the door, fumbling in the many pockets of Gendry's jacket for her door keys when she heard the car door slam and his pointed boots click on the tarmac as he walked quickly over.

She eventually found the key and put it in the lock as he finally spoke to her

"There's something between us Arya. You felt it the first time we met, didn't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" She turned her face away so he wouldn't see it burning and turned the key in the lock.

He firmly placed one cool hand over hers, preventing her from pulling the key out of the lock. She could see the blue veins prominent under the skin on the back of his hand. He turned her face back towards him and tilted her chin up before placing an assertive kiss on her lips. This time his kiss was hard and demanding and this time she didn't push him away when his tongue found hers.

He broke the kiss first, resting his head against hers for a moment

"You can deny it all you want, but that kiss didn't lie." He whispered into her hair.

"I'm still not sleeping with you."

He pulled away and gazed down at her with those magic eyes, smiling slowly.

"Not tonight Arya, but one night, when you stop denying yourself, you'll know where to find me."

Then he walked away, without as much as a backwards glance.

She slipped inside the door of her flat and closed it gently behind her. She stood with her back against the door, listening to his Ferrari sing to him as he started the engine and then the high pitched squeal of tyres as he drove away. She knew he was right - there was _something _but was it the right kind of something?

**So you didn't like Gendry/Cersei. No doubt you'll tell what you think of this…**

…**..btw Arya first met Griff in Bull's Helmet chapter 26.2. That was so long ago I had to go back and read it again myself – thanks for sticking with me so long!**


	21. Chapter 21 - Romeo & Juliet

**CHAPTER 21**

**ROMEO & JULIET**

Gendry stood, running his hands through his hair, as he watched Renly pick up the photographs. By the time Renly got to the second one, he was also running his free hand through his hair.

"For Fuck's sake Gendry! In the open air, in full view of every pervert who happened to be passing? Involving Arya?" he flicked through another few "Does Cersei know Daenerys is Jon's aunt?"

"No" Gendry mumbled.

"Well I suppose that's something."

When Renly got to the last, most damning picture, he raised those immaculately shaped eyebrows. "I didn't know you and Jon were…so intimate. He seems to have indicated to Loras that he's strictly hetro."

Gendry glared at his uncle.

"He is and we're not!" Gendry growled and then, thinking he'd better explain the hand between Jon's legs muttered "And it's not what it looks like either."

Renly's eyebrows went even higher, waiting on an explanation.

"I was just…well, a few minutes before _that_ picture was taken Danni, at least I think it was her, was…you know tickling my balls."

Renly looked as if he was trying very hard to maintain his dignified composure.

"And…?" Renly wondered as Gendry didn't elaborate.

Gendry had given up running his hands _through_ his hair now and was standing with his hands clasped on top of his head, as if he was facing a firing squad. Dear God, this was torture. It was worse than the time his mum caught him having a wank. At least then he hadn't had to give her a blow by blow account of the events leading up to her catching him jerking off in the bathroom sink.

"Ok, if you must know…it felt so fucking good that I wanted Jon to feel the same thing and, I obviously couldn't ask Arya, Danni was busy with my fucking balls, so I did it…I GROPED JON'S BALLS! There! I admitted it! Happy now?"

"Not as happy as Jon looks in that picture! Are you sure you didn't slide a finger up…"

"I'M FUCKING SURE!" Gendry yelled as Renly tried to contain himself, his shoulders shaking.

The door sprang open and Loras stomped in and straight over to the drinks cabinet without looking at either of them.

"Christ I hate that woman!" he exclaimed as he grabbed a bottle and a glass. He muttered "Fucking bitch" to himself as he unscrewed the cap on a bottle of Glenmorangie and poured a double measure.

"Renly?" he asked, holding up an empty square, crystal glass.

Renly still didn't seem to be able to speak, so he avoided making eye contact with Loras, bit his lip and shook his head.

Loras poured another large one anyway and handed it to Gendry.

"I heard the last part of your conversation with the Queen Bitch, so I know you need this."

Gendry took it gratefully; it wasn't just the alcohol he was grateful for, it was the fact that Loras had heard enough to know that he needed a drink. Although he would never admit it to anyone, he was rather scared of Loras' reaction. Gendry wouldn't have been entirely surprised if Loras felt he deserved a beating or something equally painful and degrading as punishment for his stupidity.

Loras dropped into the empty leather armchair in front of Gendry's desk and took a gulp of his whisky. Renly had an elbow on the arm of the chair, with his hand resting against the side of his head, shielding his face from Loras. Gendry could tell from his uncle's shaking shoulders that he was still trying to recover his composure.

"Well done for not killing her, by the way. You're self control is obviously coming on." Loras took another hit of his Glenmorangie. "Even I find it hard to stop myself punching her and that's without her goading me the way she goaded you."

Praise from Loras? Was that a pig flying past the window?

"Photos?" Loras commented to no-one in particular, putting down his whisky glass and picking up the sheaf of glossy A4 photographs.

Gendry took a big gulp of his whisky, steeling himself for Loras's reaction.

Loras' shock was evident as soon as he looked at the first photograph, but he didn't pass any comment. That was typical of Loras – no snap judgements; assess the whole situation before deciding on a course of action.

Gendry took another gulp. The burning whisky was a welcome distraction from the excruciating wait for the Head of Security's reaction. Renly was still keeping his head down.

The next half dozen photographs were of Jon fucking Danni in various ways and Loras' eyes narrowed as he flicked through those ones until he got to the last one - the damming one with the hand. Loras' eyebrows shot up.

"You fucking selfish Bastard!" he snarled, glaring at Gendry.

Gendry stiffened, and felt the blood drain from his face. He had witnessed Loras in action before and didn't fancy being on the receiving end of the kind of treatment Petyr Baelish got in the brothel.

"_You had the fucking nerve to have a fucking orgy in our room and you never even invited us!?"_ he yelled and then he laughed and it wasn't an ironic snigger it was actually a real, big laugh. Gendry couldn't remember ever hearing Loras laugh before and it was shocking. Shocking because it was so unexpected and shocking _because it was Loras _and, well, Loras was a miserable pain in the arse and just didn't laugh – until now.

Renly, who was trying to pull himself together, took his pristine handkerchief out of his breast pocket and wiped the tears from his eyes. Loras looked across at him and that sent Renly off again, his shoulders heaving with suppressed laughter. He started spluttering so much he just had to open his mouth and start guffawing.

The two of them rolled around laughing at Gendry. He didn't find it funny. At all.

His self control might have held in front of Cersei, but not in front of this ridicule.

"I'm fucking glad you find it so fucking funny!" Gendry snarled, making them laughed harder.

"_Stop fucking laughing at me!_" he roared, slamming his fists down on the desk.

To his horror, the desk groaned and then slowly collapsed in on itself, breaking neatly in half, straight down the middle, between where his fists had landed. He could only watch as all the papers, the laptop, the pens and his coffee all slid slowly down the crevasse created by the two collapsed halves of his desk.

The two of them were now laughing so hard, Gendry though his uncle was going to fall out of the armchair.

The intercom that had been on his desk started ringing. That would be Val wondering what the hell was going on. Gendry had to scrabble around on his hands and knees amongst the valley of coffee soaked paperwork to find it. Sure enough, she was buzzing him to find out what the noise was and if he was alright.

"Umm, yes, but I think I broke my desk. Can you look into ordering me a new one please Val?"

"_He thinks he broke his desk!_" Renly gasped to Loras between uncontrollable sobs of laughter. Loras was trying to wrestle Renly's handkerchief off him to wipe the tears away from his own eyes, but Renly wasn't for letting it go. The handkerchief ripped, for a second they stopped laughing, both staring at the ripped piece of pink cotton in their hand, then they started laughing again, even harder than before.

Gendry threw the intercom at Loras, aiming for his head. Without even seeming to look at it, Loras deftly caught it in the hand that wasn't gripping the half hankie.

"No need for that!" Loras yelled back. But he seemed to get the message. "Come on Renly. Calm down. We need to talk about this."

Renly nodded and wiped the tears away from his eyes with the pink scrap of cotton.

"Right! Come on!" Loras exclaimed as if he was giving himself a pep talk and coughed to clear his throat, deliberately not looking at Renly for fear he would start laughing again or at a fuming Gendry for the same reason.

"What did she say she was going to do with the photos Gendry?"

Now he thought about it, she hadn't actually said.

"She said she would keep them quiet in return for our not going public with her kid's parentage."

"Well, it's an empty threat. Who'd publish these? They're too 'racy' for the papers." Renly coughed and Loras immediately shot him a warning look. "And there are still _some_ privacy laws in this country. You can't publish personal photos unless they're in the public interest and these aren't – nobody knows who you are. So, she's got the racy photos but she can't do anything with them and, to be honest we probably wouldn't disclose our DNA evidence anyway – would we Renly?"

"No." Renly confirmed, having regained his composure. "It's the kids that would suffer the most from that and it's hardly the kid's fault that their parents are idiots."

"However, we will use this to our advantage." Loras added with a wicked gleam in his eye.

"How?" Gendry wanted to know. How could you salvage something from this mess?

"We're not the only ones with dirty little secrets. The best form of defence is attack! And I intend to make sure we give as good as we get – better in fact!"

"But how are we going to do that?"

"Leave it with me, but let's just say - _it may involve you taking one for the team!"_

"No fucking way! I'm not going anywhere near that bitch!"

Loras picked up the photos and waved them at Gendry.

"You need to make amends somehow for this mess and you'll do whatever are in the bests interests of The Pack won't you?"

Gendry glared at him. Emotional blackmail was usually Renly's bag.

"Relax; we'll not make you fuck her, like she wants."

So Loras had heard that part of Cersei's proposal! Renly's eyebrows were raised in surprise.

"She's not as smart as she thinks she is and you can bet your arse old Tywin Lannister doesn't know anything about her offer to give you the Lannister 25%."

Renly's jaw dropped open. "Really? This could be the opportunity we've been waiting for! Robert would have done anything to get that 25% back, God knows he tried everything."

"But Gendry's not Robert." Loras snapped at Renly. "and I don't expect him to do _anything _for the company and neither should you." The two of them glared at each other.

"You and I need to discuss this, _alone_." Loras shot Renly a warning glance, but Renly didn't take the hint.

"Why not now? He's part of The Pack too. Anything we need to discuss can be said in front of him." Renly nodded at Gendry.

"Not this." Loras was adamant.

"Yes this." Renly was equally firm.

Loras groaned, partially giving in to Renly's demand. "Because it involves his children and us and the whole fucking same old argument about you wanting kids."

"Oh that." Renly replied, shifting in his seat and looking very uncomfortable.

Gendry noticed that neither of them would make eye contact with him now. This was obviously a biggie. Gendry now felt as uncomfortable as the two of them looked.

"Anyway, while we're all together, we've got two more things we can discuss." Loras diplomatically changed the subject.

Renly looked at his watch. "You've got ten minutes. Varys is popping in today and you know how he hates it if I'm late."

Loras rolled his eyes, the contempt he felt for Varys plain to see.

"First – Jon."

Gendry's ears pricked up.

"We're on the countdown to the next full moon. What's the plan?"

Renly shrugged noncommittally. "I don't see the hurry myself. He's not had much time to get used to the idea."

"I think the opposite. Strike while the iron is hot with him – give him too much time, he'll over think it and we might lose him."

For once Gendry had to agree with Loras. Jon might believe he thought things through, but he usually didn't. He was impulsive and liked to nurture a grudge. At the moment Jon was obsessed with his Krav Maga training and had nowhere else to go. He was also still livid at Ned for having lied to him, but give him enough time and Ned might be able to talk him round. Ned or Arya, or if Robb cancelled the damn wedding, perhaps even Robb.

"I say we bite him this month too." Gendry agreed.

"We?" Renly echoed. "Who said anything about 'we'?"

"Loras did! When we were talking to Stannis." Now Gendry was confused. He looked to Loras for support – who would have ever thought that would have happened? "You said to Stannis that all three of us would bite him - just to be sure."

"I know I did, but the truth is, I don't know how it's going to work. Robert bit us all, so he's the only Alpha we've known and it's not as if there's some manual we can look up or anyone we can ask."

"Does Stannis not know? Was Robert his Alpha too?" Gendry wondered. It seemed unlikely. He couldn't imagine Stannis playing Beta to anyone.

Renly snorted. "Stannis is what I suppose you could call _a lone wolf_."

"_Omega_ is the technical term" Loras added.

"Not that Stannis would accept that! An Omega in a pack is the lowest, the outcast. However, in Stannis' mind, Stannis is his own Alpha, but to the rest of us, well…"

Renly trailed off, searching for the right words to describe his brother.

"He stinks." Gendry added, helpfully.

Loras and Renly both laughed and the unspoken tension in the room was broken.

"So you've noticed?" Renly asked. "I think, as a pack we develop an affinity for the smell of our brothers…our _pack_ brothers obviously, not our real brothers." Renly grimaced, as if he has a bad taste in his mouth, as he unwittingly turned the conversation back to Stannis.

Gendry thought of his own brother.

"What about Edric?" His half brother had started his internship with Baratheon Enterprises already and, by all accounts, was taking to it like a duck to water – obviously he and Gendry didn't share that particular gene.

"Well, it's a Werewolf rule, we have such a thing, that you don't get bitten until you're twenty one. Any earlier and there's too a great a chance that you'll rebel, change your mind and, basically you can't. So he's _off the menu,_ as you might say, were, for another few years." Renly explained.

Thinking of twenty first birthdays reminded Gendry of Arya. It wasn't long until hers now, but he never had time to dwell on it as Loras had something else to tell them.

"Before you go Renly, the second thing I need your opinion on is the Romeo and Juliet love story, unfolding right under our noses."

"Oh?" Renly was suddenly interested and animated. "Do tell!"

For an awful moment Gendry thought this was something to do with Arya and him. He'd ever considered them to be doomed lovers, but Renly loved a bit of drama and romance and Loras obviously knew it.

Loras smirked, enjoying holding the other two in suspense; enjoying knowing something they didn't and making them wait.

"Loras!" Renly said sharply, obviously annoyed at Loras' little game.

"Ok, ok…well, right under our noses, right in front of this building, every lunchtime our little Edric is met by a beautiful girl, who brings his lunch in a basket and the two of them walk along the river to the same bench …and do all the things young lovers do." Loras revealed.

Gendry unexpectedly felt pride swell in his chest. So they had something in common after all – Edric was a hit with the ladies too, despite those ears.

"So who's the 'beautiful girl'?" Renly asked.

Loras only smirked, deliberately teasing Renly by not immediately answering. In his frustration, Renly leant over and slapped Loras' thigh playfully.

"Tell me!"

Gendry groaned and closed his eyes, unable to watch. He would have much preferred that they played their silly little lovers games when he wasn't around.

Loras still wouldn't share his information and Renly threatened to '_make him_' in a rather lewd way. Mercifully Loras decided to talk, before Gendry was forced to watch Renly inflict whatever punishment he had in mind.

"Myrcella Lannister, formerly Baratheon. They must have hit it off at the funeral while we were all _otherwise engaged_." Loras looked pointedly at Gendry.

Gendry ignored the reference to his 'problem' in the car park with Arya. He was too surprised at Edric. Gendry had assumed Myrcella was way out of Edric's league, but it seemed the girl liked brains instead of brawn. If Gendry had anything to do with it, young Edric would soon have both.

"Let's leave them alone and hope the Lannisters do to." Renly decided. And the meeting was adjourned.

-o-

It was ten minutes to three o'clock and Arya was nervous. Really nervous. What if Renly didn't like it? What if he didn't buy it? What if he put conditions upon buying it? And most importantly - what was he going to say about Gendry?

She knew she shouldn't have had that second espresso Jaqen had offered her. She felt jangled, as if she was wound as tight as a spring. She had paced the gallery, stood at the window - watching, sat down, paced the gallery again and all in the last sixty seconds.

She walked over to the window again and was just trying to decide if it was worth going to the toilet to try and kill another five minutes, when she felt Jaqen behind her. He had a most disconcerting habit of being able to walk around the gallery almost noiselessly. He must have rubber soles or something on his shoes she thought. Arya had on sling-backs with kitten heels that clicked loudly whenever she walked across the wooden floor and there had been a lot of clicking in the past hour.

This was the first time she had been back in the Gallery since they had agreed the deal. They had spent most of the afternoon going over paperwork and drinking too much strong coffee.

Arya had thought she had learned her lesson from the last time she had been here – no fancy underwear. She had left her legs bare this time. She had on a fitted linen dress, probably subconsciously copying his style of dress, and had decided bare, tanned legs were acceptable on this beautiful, sunny day. The dress had a scoop neck and little cap sleeves. Quite demure she had thought, until she had got inside the air conditioned gallery. She had worn a simple, sheer bra which did nothing to hide her nipples as they reacted to the cold air. She hadn't even thought to bring a cardigan, so 'hello boys' – Arya's nipples were standing to attention for all to see. God, she thought, Jaqen might assume she was doing this deliberately. She couldn't help notice him sneaking sly glances at her chest when he thought she wasn't looking.

"A girl shouldn't be so tense and nervous." He said softly as he stood beside her at the window.

"Oh, I know, but there's a … a lot of history with this friend." She thought that would cover the general position with Renly without going into unnecessary detail.

"Was he a lover?"

Arya stiffened. What a thought! Renly as her lover. Oh God. What a question!

Jaqen had asked the question quite matter-of-factly. Arya knew that foreign people weren't as embarrassed and uptight about these things, so she tried not to be shocked or defensive, but to answer his question equally matter-of -factly.

"No. He's very attractive but I'm…not his type."

"So, a girl wanted this man?" Jaqen asked slowly.

Arya had to stop herself yelling at him to mind his own business, but he didn't seem to be mocking her. Perhaps where he came from it was acceptable to ask such intimate questions.

"Umm, no." It would be so easy to simply say 'he's gay', but it didn't seem right to be telling Jaqen so much about the Head of Baratheon Enterprises. Arya wasn't even sure if Renly was 'out'. She played with her hair. She had put it in a high ponytail, making sure she had left enough hair out to wrap around the band. Very business like she had thought – and the ponytail was very useful to fiddle with. Why did Jaqen have to ask such awkward questions right now when she was already uptight and nervous?

"I used to date his nephew and it ended badly. But Mr Baratheon – the man who is coming - is still a friend." She explained. Then muttered "I hope" under her breath.

"Baratheon" Jaqen rolled the unfamiliar word around his mouth, just as he had 'Werewolf' the last time they had met. Oh God, please let Renly arrive soon.

Arya was absentmindedly rubbing the back of her neck. She hadn't even realised she was doing it until Jaqen calmly took her hand and lifted it off her neck, dropping it by her side. He then started massaging the back of her neck himself and, Oh God, was he good. He must have learned massage or acupuncture or something as his fingers immediately found the little knots of tension at the base of her neck and expertly began working on them. Strong, sure fingers seemed to know exactly what she need and where. Arya found herself closing her eyes and groaning as he worked up her neck and then along her shoulders, drawing the tension out with every firm stroke.

She hadn't realised how tense she was or how wonderful a real, expert massage could be. He wasn't simply rubbing her neck and shoulders the way the beauticians did when she got a facial; his fingers seemed to know exactly where and how to touch her for maximum pleasure and effect.

"Oh, that feels wonderful" Arya moaned as his thumbs worked down, towards her shoulder blades. "Where did you learn how to do this?"

"Braavos and other places." He replied softly, while continuing his wonderful ministrations. "A man could teach a girl if she likes."

"Hmmm, I'd like that _very much_" Arya sighed, feeling her earlier tension just float away under his sure hands.

"Soon then…but not now." And he stopped suddenly. Arya was about to urge him to keep going when she simultaneously felt his lips brush the base of her neck and heard the door creak. Her eyes sprang open to see Loras holding the door open for Renly. Shit! She felt like she'd been caught with her hand in the sweetie jar, or worse…caught with her knickers down. Had they had seen? Who was she kidding…Loras always saw and heard _everything_!

Sure enough, he was looking at her with a disapproving expression on his face. Damn him and his supernatural spying powers!

Jaqen was entirely un-phased, smiling in welcome as the two big men strode in.

Renly nodded to Arya and held out his hand to Jaqen. The head of Baratheon Enterprises was the very personification of easy elegancy as usual. Today he wore a steel grey suit and a deeper grey open neck shirt. The grey of his clothes only served to emphasise the brilliant blue of his eyes.

Arya allowed herself a little smile. _Renly as her lover_. He certainly was easy on the eye. Like an older, sleeker version of Gendry. Oh dear, she had to keep trying not to think about Him, but it wasn't easy when another, identikit Baratheon was standing in front of her.

Jaqen had moved the Werewolf painting from the window to a stand in the centre of the room. You couldn't miss it, as soon as you walked in. The eight moons the wolf man juggled seemed to glow under the lights, while the wolf man himself was dark, bleak and menacing. She hoped Renly would like it.

Arya and Jaqen stood in front of the painting, waiting for Renly to join them, but he never bothered to look at it. He was looking at Arya when he confirmed that he'd buy it and asked Loras to attend to paying for it. Loras nodded and reached into his jacket, no doubt for his company credit card. Arya could tell that Jaqen was extremely surprised that Arya's 'friend' would spend £120,000 on a painting without asking any questions, without even taking a proper look at it.

"Arya, will you walk with me?" Renly asked solemnly, taking her arm in his and steering her further into the gallery while Jaqen took Loras over to the counter to pay. She caught sight of their reflection in a piece of glass. They did make a handsome couple, but she looked like the young mistress on the arm of her wealthy, businessman lover.

She noticed the heat of his arm, then as he walked beside her, _his_ smell. Unlike Loras, he wore aftershave and, although she didn't recognise it, it was nice and smelled expensive. However, underneath that, once her nose got used to the aftershave, there was definitely something else…eau de wolf; dangerous, enticing and sexy as hell, but this wasn't the time or the place to think too much about that.

"Didn't you like the paining Renly?"

"Yes, of course I did, but it's not exactly subtle is it? I might as well hang a sign on my front gate saying 'Beware of the Werewolf.'" He muttered sarcastically.

"Oh." She hadn't thought of that.

"Don't worry, I'll find somewhere to put it." He squeezed her arm reassuringly "But no more Werewolf advertisements please. So, we had something to discuss…"

Arya had been dreading this part. She felt her heart beginning to pound and that tension return to her back and neck. Maybe Jaqen would massage it again later for her.

"The incident at the funeral was unfortunate…"

"Unfortunate! That's a bit of an understatement don't you think?" She replied angrily, trying to keep her voice down.

She tried to un-entwine her arm from his, but he had too firm a hold on her. She would cause a scene if she tried to wriggle any harder and she didn't want Jaqen to think there was a problem. She looked over at him. He was still doing something with Loras at the desk. God knows what Renly, or Loras or both of them would do to Jaqen if he tried to intervene on her behalf, so she quit struggling and kept walking.

"He's just learning Arya. Try and think of him as a wolf cub."

"Wolf cub?" she repeated incredulously. Was Renly serious?

"He might nip a bit, but he's learning and, meantime he's kind of cute and loveable – don't you think?" Renly smiled down at her as if he expected her to say '_yes, Renly, ok, Renly I'll take him back Renly'. _And she wasn't!

She took a deep breath.

"I'm worried he kills me." There she'd said it.

He stopped and looked at her, concern now written all over his face.

"Ahhh, you're still thinking that he's Robert and you're Lyanna. Well looks don't tell the whole story and Robert was a very flawed _human being_." Renly snorted when he realised what he'd said. "Well, perhaps that's not as stupid as it sounds. A flawed human being doesn't somehow become a model Werewolf. When we're animals, we're still ourselves only more so, without the conventions that human society has imposed upon us since we were born. So if you're a psychopath in your human life, you're not suddenly going to be the best company as a wolf."

"Was Robert a psychopath?"

"Well, in that it means an absence of empathy – yes. I would also say that he was narcissistic and Machiavellian."

"That means you love yourself right? And that you like playing games?"

"That you _live_ to play games, yes. Have all three of those character traits and you're onto a winning combination if all you care about is money and power and turning Baratheon Enterprises into the biggest fish in a small pond."

"And Robert was like that?"

"Absolutely. Now tell me is Gendry like that?"

It wasn't a hard question to answer -he obviously wasn't. The only games Gendry liked playing were sexy ones and he definitely had feelings.

"Hmmm, he's probably only the narcissist bit."

Renly laughed and squeezed her arm. "Well maybe that's a Baratheon trait none of us can escape. I have to confess I'm a bit like that myself" he whispered conspiratorially – as if it was news to Arya that Renly loved himself.

"Just give him a chance Arya. You know he loves you and he's going through a lot right now. He could really use all the support he can get and he wants yours most of all."

If Renly was trying to make her feel guilty it was working.

"But my father said _this curse_ has ruined my family."

"I'd have to agree with him, but we're not some monsters running through the forest eating villagers Arya. This is the twenty first century and we've used _this gift_ to our advantage. We've gone to great lengths and expense to keep ourselves and those we love safe. If you'd just give him a chance Arya, give _us_ a chance, we could prove it to you."

He turned her around to face him, laying his elegant, warm hands on her shoulders and regarding her seriously with those blue, blue eyes she found so hard to resist.

"Now will you promise me you'll give him a chance?"

"Ok" she mumbled reluctantly. God, Renly wasn't bad at the manipulative, game playing stuff himself.

"Good girl. Now tell me how you and Brienne are getting along."

As they walked back through the Gallery, Arya told him about the training and the cooking but omitted the bits about Fire & Blood, Duck and obviously Griff. Brienne had promised that, as she was off duty, that night was 'off the record'.

Jaqen shook Renly's hand again, thanking him politely for his business and expressing his hope that Renly would become a regular visitor to the gallery. Renly side stepped the invite with practiced ease and as he was leaving, Arya thanked him too.

"You're welcome dear, but remember what I said…"

Arya rolled her eyes.

"_Yes dear_!" she mimicked sarcastically. Renly didn't look very amused.

As the three of them walked out into the sunlight, Loras asked

"Arya can I have a word?"

She agreed, but she had no idea what he wanted 'a word' about as Renly had already got her agreement to give Gendry another chance. Anyway, whatever he wanted, it gave her another chance to enjoy the unique Loras smell – eau de Tyrell, she'd decided to call it.

"Walk with me. Give us 5 please Renly."

Renly nodded and was already starting to make a call as he got into the back of the car.

They walked slowly along the road together. He had his hands in his pockets, she had her arms folded across her chest. Why did he always make her so nervous?

"I know Renly's already spoken to you about Gendry, so I'm not going to repeat what he said, but…"

Arya rolled her eyes and groaned. That didn't stop Loras.

"Having this _gift_ isn't all bad; in fact it's a hell of a lot of fun. Exciting too. You know you should enjoy yourself more - loosen up."

_Oh God, where had she heard that before? Why was everyone so concerned with her having fun all of a sudden._

"Gendry's going through a lot of shit just now Arya; however he's actually trying hard. I never thought I'd say it… but once you get to know him, he's not so bad."

"I know, I know…just give him a chance." She moaned.

"Exactly! I like you Arya. I like that you think you're fierce and I like that you can twist our blue eyed boy around your little finger. You'd be an excellent edition to our family."

"Pack you mean!"

"Well there is that. But a word of warning…if you leave it too long you might find you've missed your opportunity."

"Eh?"

"Lord Baratheon of Storm's End; young, rich…Christ, I can't believe I'm saying this…_handsome_. Come on Arya, you're not stupid! I'm not so sure about him, but you're not! He's quite a catch now and how long do you think it's going to be before someone else gets her claws into him."

"I'd never thought about it…" and she hadn't – until now. Was that a little pang of possessive jealousy she'd experienced when Loras mentioned another woman's claws?

"Yeah, well you should, as there have been a few sniffing around already." And, unusually for him, Loras looked uncomfortable, pushing his hands further into his pockets, hunching his shoulders and not meeting her eyes. Strange. He obviously knew more than he wanted to say. Half of her was desperate to know; the other half knew she would be safer not to ask; not to get involved again.

"What do you know about Jaqen H'ghar?" Loras changed the subject abruptly.

"Umm, not much. Why?"

"First of all, I don't approve of _that_ _massage_ he was giving you. He's your boss for Chrissakes! And what age is he? Is that really appropriate? And don't think I missed him kissing your neck Miss Stark!"

Arya turned an unfortunate shade of beetroot. Loras only called her 'Miss Stark' when he was either in grumpy big brother mode or pretending to be Christian Grey and this definitely wasn't one of his Christian Grey moments.

"He was …I was just a bit tense. It was a one off." She mumbled.

Loras snorted.

"I don't think you realise what a catch you are yourself Arya. A beautiful, smart young girl like you could have any man she wants."

Arya didn't think she could have turned any redder, but her face was trying hard to prove her wrong. She stared as hard as she could into the window of the shop they were passing, not knowing what to say in reply to the compliment he had just paid her.

"Do you know anyone else that knows Jaqen? Has he said anything about his past?"

"No. I just saw the wolf painting in the window of the Gallery and walked in. Why?"

He sighed.

"Well, information is my job Arya and I don't like surprises. I like to know _everything_ about _everyone_ I'm dealing with."

He stopped walking and stared at her. At least she thought he was staring at her. He had those damned black aviators on and it was so hard to read him, even when you could see his eyes. Did he know about Griff? Is that what he meant? She felt as if he was accusing her of something and Griff was the only thing that she had done recently that she felt guilty about. Damn Brienne. She had promised she wouldn't mention it! Shit!

"Is this about Griff?" she demanded, hands on her hips. How dare Loras make Brienne spy on her when Brienne wasn't even working!

"No" he curled his lip. "But now you mention it – who or what is 'Griff'? Something I should know about?"

_Shit! Shit! Shit!_

"Oh never mind!" she said hurriedly "Just get back to Jaqen." And she started walking again, trying not to let him see how stupid and flustered she was. He shook his head and followed her.

"So I run the usual checks on this guy Jaqen H'ghar and you know what I find?"

Arya was intrigued. "What?"

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing and that just doesn't happen. There's _always _something; bank accounts, tax bills, parking tickets…something. But not this time. It's as if he doesn't exist."

"But he obviously does" she said sarcastically "Otherwise Renly just paid £120,000 to a mass hallucination."

"Don't play the smart arse with me Arya." Those black aviators glared at her. "The Gallery of Black & White is sub leasing the building. The original lease was to a pub called 'The Faceless Man'. It closed a couple of years ago, but it was owned by a holding company in Braavos, which, in turn, is owned by another in old Valyria… and there the trail goes cold. No accounts filed, no tax paid, no employees, no directors."

Loras grabbed the top of her arm and stopped her walking away from her.

"I've never seen anything like this and I'm trying to tell you to be careful."

Arya was forced to stop. She glared back at him.

"Are you telling me he's dangerous?"

"No" Loras replied thoughtfully, "…at least not in the way you mean. My life has depended on my being able to read people Arya and you have no idea how good I am at it."

Arya almost challenged him to tell her something about herself, but given her little Griff secret, that was apparently _still_ a secret, she thought better of it and shut her mouth.

He smirked.

"You were just about to ask me to prove it, then realised you didn't want to draw attention to something you _think_ you're hiding from me…probably something to do with 'Griff'."

She turned beetroot _again_.

"So, tell me I'm wrong." He drawled.

"Oh piss off Loras! Are you going to spit out what you have to say about Jaqen or not?"

He chuckled.

"The only person I can compare him to is someone I met long ago, someone who was so deep undercover, and had been for such a long time, that I don't think even he knew who he was anymore."

"Are you telling me Jaqen's a spy?" Arya asked incredulously.

"No, I'm saying what you see isn't all there is. It's as if he's wearing a disguise and it's so convincing that he has _become_ the art dealer, the gallery owner, the painter, but I think there's more to him than that. Much more."

Arya thought about the collection of masks on the wall behind Jaqen's desk. Loras couldn't possibly have seen them as he was never invited upstairs. Arya shivered.

"You're scaring me Loras. Are you saying he's bad; that he could hurt me?"

"I wouldn't let you stay if I thought that, but strangely, I don't think that at all - in fact quite the opposite. I've lived my whole adult life with violent men; soldiers, killers, mercenaries, but he is something else again. I'm not saying Jaqen, _or whoever he is,_ isn't capable of that, but that's not why he's interested _in you_ Arya."

Loras shrugged and pushed his sunglasses up onto the top of his head, so she could see those penetrating golden eyes.

"I can't put my finger on it, but there are too many coincidences here; the Werewolf painting that Renly can afford to buy without a second thought, your degree in art history, you living so close. But they're all things that would have taken years to set up so I have to believe _it is just coincidence_…but still…" he trailed off and inhaled deeply. "I'm only saying; watch yourself ok? And don't take anything Jaqen does or says at face value."

"Ok" she mumbled and smiled weakly up at him. He _had _scared her. The illusion that she held until recently that the world was populated by basically decent people, was already in tatters and here he was, ripping it a bit more.

"Come here Arya." He groaned, and to her surprise, Loras held out his arms and, to her absolute shock, she found herself leaning into his chest. Loras Tyrell; arrogant, pain in the arse, lethal Head of Security, gave her a cuddle. A big brotherly, reassuring cuddle.

He waited a few seconds before asking "Still think I smell great?"

"Ohhhh!" she pulled away, wriggling out of his embrace. "I knew you must have had an ulterior motive for giving me a hug! You just wanted your massive ego massaged some more by me telling you how good you smell! Well I'm not! You smell like a wet dog!"

His smile disappeared in an instant, to be replaced by a petted lip.

"Oh, that's cruel Miss Stark! That is the biggest insult you can hurl at us Lycanthropes!"

"You what?"

"Google it – you'll need to know all about it Arya. You really should take more of an interest in your heritage _and your future_." He smirked.

The Range Rover pulled up and a blacked out window slid down to reveal an impatient Renly.

"If you're finished spreading the love Loras, can we go?"

Loras laughed and walked around the car to get in beside Renly, leaving Arya standing awkwardly at the end of the street on her own.

"Now, don't go spending all that commission in one go Arya! I don't want to have to buy a painting from you every month. Storm's End is only so big you know!" Renly teased.

Once Loras was in the car he draped an arm around Renly and leaned towards the open window to speak to Arya.

"See you soon. I wish I could say that every man or woman I meet finds my scent as alluring as you do Arya, but unfortunately they don't."

"You are such slut Loras!" Renly gasped in mock disgust.

"I know, but you love it!" Loras snarled back.

The two of them started laughing.

Arya could only stand and watch. She'd never seen them joke around together or even act like a couple before, and it was rather disconcerting to see now.

"Ask yourself why only you smell it Arya!" Loras yelled, as Renly slid the window up.

Before the window closed altogether she caught a glimpse of Loras leaning towards Renly with his mouth open, about to bestow a big, wet, tonguing kiss on his lover.

Yuk. It was like realised your Mum and Dad actually still shagged. Old folk snogging was just gross.

She had wondered why she was the only one who seemed to recognise eau de wolf. Brienne loved everything about Renly, but she had never mentioned his smell and Arya had even asked her specifically about it several times. When she'd asked Brienne how Loras smelled, she had been sworn at. No, it definitely seemed to be just her. Arya had an awful feeling that it was a Stark thing – something in her DNA. She suspected her Aunt Lyanna would have liked eau de wolf too and that scared her. It scared her more than she liked to admit.

Jaqen had champagne on ice for them to celebrate her first sale. She had been so looking forward to that and now bloody Loras had ruined that for her. She looked down the street to the Gallery of Black and White. It was quite a walk back and they hadn't even offered her a lift.

-o-

Myrcella couldn't believe her eyes when she saw her mother come out of the Baratheon Enterprise building.

It was five minutes before one o'clock and Myrcella was waiting in her usual spot for Edric. She hurried covered her face with the magazine she had been reading, hoping desperately that her mother wouldn't notice her. Why was her mother here? She had never come to her father's office when he had been alive and now he was dead she was here? What was she up to?

Myrcella peaked over the top of her magazine to see if her mother was gone yet. No, she was standing outside the revolving door with the blond man from the funeral, the one who looked like Angelina Jolie's baby daddy, and he didn't look happy.

Myrcella watched in horror as her mother tried her usual trick of grabbing and squeezing the blonde man's penis. Maybe strangers wouldn't notice, but Myrcella had witnessed it so often, she knew the signs – the way her mother tossed her hair over her shoulder first, the pout and then the hand. Her mother seemed to feel compelled to do it to every handsome man she met. It was as if she needed constant reassurance, to check the effect she was having on them; make sure she still 'had it' and could make them all hard. Myrcella had even seen her do it to Uncle Jaime. _Uncle _Jaime.

Myrcella might be young and naive, but she wasn't stupid. She'd heard the rumours about why her father had divorced her mother and, although she hadn't wanted to believe them, Joffrey had told her they were true. He seemed to glory in it. Joffrey thought it made him _more Aryan;_ more pure of blood. Myrcella hated all that Nazi talk, and so had her father – Robert. She would always think of him as her father. Always.

She remembered the time her mother had bought some Nazi memorabilia at an auction and brought it home. Her father had gone ballistic. That was probably the biggest fight she could remember, and there had been _a lot_ of fights. Now the Nazi stuff was all kept at Grandfather Tywin's place. The Lannisters seemed to think it was acceptable, normal even, to collect that stuff, but Myrcella hated it and everything it stood for – just like her father had. Joffrey had always been more like the Lannister side – and was by far her mother's favourite. Myrcella had always thought she was more like her father when he was focused and driven; not when he was drunk and angry. Now she felt like she didn't know who she was.

Just when her world felt as if it had fallen apart entirely, she'd met Edric. He was cute and smart and, most of all, he understood what she was going through. It was as if someone had thrown her a lifeline and Edric was it. He was keeping her afloat and giving her an anchor to hold onto when the rest of her world was spinning out of control.

Even the routine of meeting him everyday was saving her. School was finished for the summer and every morning she walked to the local deli to buy things for their lunch. She would go home and make the most exotic sandwich fillings she could think of. She loved to surprise him with the different combinations and had even taken to baking him cupcakes in the afternoon for his lunch the next day. It all kept her busy, kept her mind off what was going on at home and, most of all – kept her out the house and away from her mother.

Now here she was, up to her old tricks outside her father's old office. Myrcella was delighted to see the blond man anticipate her mother's signature move and catch her hand before she could grope him. Her mother didn't look happy. She didn't like it when she didn't get her own way and _she hated it _when men didn't succumb to her charms – not that it happened very often. It seemed to Myrcella that almost every man was ruled by what was in his trousers. She liked the blonde man already as he clearly wasn't.

After an exchange of angry words, her mother stormed off to a waiting white limousine. The blonde man stood outside the building until the car, and her mother, were well away. Before he went back inside he looked straight over to where Myrcella was sitting on the wall. She hastily covered her face with the magazine, but she was too late; he had smiled at her and winked too. When she dared to peek over the magazine again he was gone.

**Definitely time for some smut next week! But who's getting some? You'll need to wait until next Friday to find out… **


	22. Chapter 22 - Alpha dog

**Chapter 22**

**ALPHA DOG**

They were perched on high stools around a circular glass table. Arya had decided as soon as they tried to sit down, that these stools had been designed to embarrass anyone with a short skirt. Trying to keep her thighs clamped together and not fall off the seat demanded more concentration that she had – especially as she was rather drunk.

It had been a long afternoon and it looked like it was going to be a long night. As Arya had suspected, Jeyne and she had been given the worst dresses to wear. Maybe 'worst' was overstating it, but their dresses certainly weren't as flattering and sophisticated as the silk columns Sansa and Margaery had. No-one was going to look good in an acorn print dress with puffy sleeves and a calf length, full skirt. Actually, once they'd tried them on, the greens and browns of the acorn dresses suited Arya and Jeyne's darker colouring, but the style of dress sucked.

The compensation for the trying day was free champagne. Lots of it. They had started with pink champagne during the dress fitting and now they were in a wine bar it was still flowing. Thankfully Freya was buying as it was £120 a bottle. Arya had already been feeling rather giggly by the time they made it to the wine bar and now, after a few more bottles between them, she had to admit, she was well on the way to being drunk. Food didn't seem to be necessary to the other girls. Arya, on the other hand, was so hungry she'd already had two packets of crisps and a packet of peanuts. Brienne would have been horrified. Unfortunately they didn't seem to be doing much to soak up the alcohol sloshing around in her system.

This wine bar was a regular haunt of the city boys and, on a Friday night, it was full of bankers, accountants and brokers, all trying to drink enough to put a dent in their fat cat city bonuses.

The table next to them was occupied by half a dozen private school Hoorah Hendry's. Two hours ago, Arya had found their conversation tedious. Now it was beyond boring. Who cared how many rental properties they had or who they played golf with? However Jayne, Margaery and Freya loved the attention and, as the champagne flowed, the flirting was turning serious.

Arya took the opportunity to speak to Sansa – the first time she had had a chance since their lunch the week before. Arya had tried to text and phone but, _if _she got a reply, Sansa was always 'too busy' to talk, promising to call back. She never had. Arya wanted to find out about Winterfell and the family, but most of all about Sandor Clegane.

"So Big Sis, how's Mum and Dad?"

"Err. I don't know. I haven't been back home since the café."

"What?!" Arya shrieked. "That was 10 days ago! You mean you've been with _him _the whole time?"

"Oh yes." Sansa replied dreamily. "He lives on a boat and he's going to sail around the world. It's _so_ romantic." Arya could think of nothing worse than living on a boat and, until she met Clegane, Arya suspected that Sansa couldn't have either.

"I didn't even want to come tonight" Sansa confided. Arya knew then it was serious. Really serious. Sansa even thinking about missing a night out in London with the girls? It was unheard of!

"He's picking me up at midnight." She beamed happily.

"So you're not going clubbing?" Arya gasped. "Really?"

Arya had anticipated a long night at one of the snobby clubs like Mahiki or Boujis that Sansa and her friends frequented. Places where the doormen treated you like shit, you had to spend £500 to even get a table and were _still _subjected to the withering scrutiny of the regulars, even when you were _with_ the regulars. Arya had never felt as if she fitted in, so it was a huge relief (and a shock) to hear Sansa had no intention of going clubbing tonight.

"Me and my man are going to go home and cuddle!" she confided.

"Home? Cuddle? _With_ _Him_?" Arya was shocked. "He didn't look very cuddly." She muttered.

Although Arya was trying not to judge people by their appearance, she knew 'The Hound' (as Loras called him) was a battle scarred, ex SAS mercenary, who obviously had no scruples about who he sold his skills to. That was what he was and that's exactly what he looked like. "Cuddly" certainly wasn't the first word that sprang to mind when describing him.

"Oh, he's not soft and cuddly. I don't mean _that_! He's big and hard…" Sansa blushed and giggled wickedly as soon as she said '_hard_' "…and he can't get enough of me."

"I'll bet he can't." Arya groaned. She could imagine that a rough, scarred, older guy like Sandor Clegane must have thought all his dreams had come true to end up with a beautiful, rich, young, _virginal _Lady like Sansa. Presumably the virginal part was history now.

"So have you _done it_ with him then?" Arya couldn't resist asking.

"Oh, so many times and so many ways I've lost count." Sansa beamed, her face lighting up at the memories. "You were right. I don't know why I waited so long, but I'm glad I did, 'cos he's the one for me. Definitely. There'll never be anyone else.

"Really? How can you be so sure already?"

"Because he's not interested in my title or my trust fund; he just loves _me_ and he'd still love me if I had nothing. I've never known a man like that before." She sighed wistfully. "Just like Gendry. He's not interested in anything except you is he? Who'd have thought grubby Gendry Waters would have ended up Lord Gendry Baratheon of Storm's End? But I'm sure he'd give all that up tomorrow if you wanted him too. That's true love isn't it?" Sansa concluded dreamily.

Arya groaned. First Renly, now Sansa, wanted her to give Gendry another chance.

She knew Sansa was right; Gendry had already said as much at the funeral – he'd run away with her, do anything for her if she'd marry him. Hearing Sansa say it out loud made her realise how lucky she was to have that. A gorgeous man who loved her - _really loved her_. How many times would she find that in her life? And she was prepared to throw it all away because his bloody father had cursed him.

Oh, she was too drunk to think about it now. Thank God she'd taken Brienne's advice and deleted his number from her phone or she would have been sorely tempted to call him then and there. Tomorrow. She'd think about it, think about Him, tomorrow. She just had to get through tonight and the drunken flirting going on around her.

Jayne and Margaery were free to do what they wanted – even if Arya thought it pathetic, but it made her uncomfortable to watch Freya throwing her head back and laughing too loudly at some stupid joke one of the fat bankers told. She was just too flirty, too familiar and the men were all arses.

What would Robb think if he could see her? But then Robb wasn't exactly in a position to criticise anyone else's inappropriate behaviour was he? Suddenly she felt very sorry for Freya. How would it feel to be getting married in a few weeks to a man who didn't really love you? A man who was cheating on you before you even got married? Would Gendry or Sandor Clegane do that? She hoped not, but then she would never have thought Robb would do that either. She had, however, assumed her father had; all those years believing he had cheated on her mother and had a Bastard child. She wondered if that was Robb seemed to think it was ok to do it too? Did Robb know it had all been a lie to protect Jon? Oh why was life so complicated?

"Hey guys, Brad Pitt just walked in with his body guards!" one of the city boys yelled. Twelve pairs of eyes swivelled to the door.

Arya choked on her champagne, spluttering in a most unladylike fashion.

"That's not Brad Pitt you idiots!" Freya shrieked.

Pointing to Margaery she shouted drunkenly "That's _her _brother!" Then, pointing to Sansa "and _her_ brother" and finally, pointing to Arya "and _her_ ex-fiancé!"

Arya wished she could disappear into her champagne glass. Ex-fiancé. Yes, that's all Gendry was now. She hadn't worn her ring since Loras had asked her all those awkward questions about it. Margaery had asked her about the engagement at the very start of the day. Arya had confirmed the engagement was off. All the girls were very sympathetic, in fact Margaery had seemed to be quite pleased; telling her she was far too young and Gendry wasn't her type anyway. Only Sansa hadn't seemed convinced.

The first thing Arya noticed when the boys swaggered in was that Jon had had his hair cut, Loras style. Arya felt like weeping for the loss of his beautiful curls. It looked as if his transformation into Loras' protégé was almost complete. They wore similar, sharp black suits with thin lapels, crisp white shirts and skinny black ties – Baratheon security uniform.

It wasn't just his shockingly unfamiliar hair and the sharp suit than made Jon look sodifferent. Arya wasn't sure if he'd lost weight or if it was the effect of the hair cut, but she could see the muscles in his jaw clench and his cheek bones were more prominently on display. He just looked more like Loras, which probably wasn't too awful, seeing as Loras himself looked like a bloody movie star. He just didn't look like her safe, familiar big brother anymore. He looked more…. well, 'capable' was probably the best way to describe it. She remembered Sansa describing Loras as moving like a panther. When Jon had walked in she'd noticed that he was walking with that same easy, confident, _capable, _animalgrace too.

And then there was Gendry. Dear God. _There was Gendry._ She couldn't stop her stomach flipping at the mere sight of him. Shit, why did he have to turn up looking so bloomin' hot when she so drunk? She'd almost given in to him, almost collapsed into his arms after his father's funeral. _Almost._ But he'd saved her from making one hell of a mistake by showing his true colours, but showing her the wolf lurking under that delicious exterior. Those eyes, burning orange, warning her to run and never look back. She had see flashes of those supernatural eyes from Loras and Renly before, but never that close and never from Him. It hadn't just scared her, it had terrified her. And now she had promised Renly she'd _give Him a chance_.

He had been so close to her in the car park, she had felt the warmth of his body. It was like that bloomin' twilight movie when the good looking wolf boy – Jacob wasn't it? – had been sitting in the truck cab with Kirstin Stewart. What had he said? Something like its '108 degrees over here'? Well, they'd obviously got that right as she'd felt the heat radiating off Gendry in the car park and his smell. Oh God, his smell. She'd thought Loras smelled good, but he had nothing on Gendry. Just _smelling_ Him had done things to her body she didn't believe possible.

But he was dangerous. She still had the scabs on her wrist where his claws had punctured her skin, now hidden beneath layers of chunky bangles. She knew Gendry wasn't really like his father, Renly had made her realise that, but what if he lost it when they were making love? For God's sake, he couldn't even control himself in broad daylight, in the middle of a car park!

He had on big, scuffed black boots, new black jeans and a black shirt with the top two buttons undone. Silky black hair was visible on his chest and his forearms where he had rolled up his sleeves. She was suddenly afraid of being close too him again. She was afraid she wouldn't be able to resist; she was too drunk and he looked too damn good. She'd just need to try and keep away from him, make sure she didn't smell him – as that could be fatal. _Literally_.

"Let's leave now!" she hissed to Sansa.

"Are you kidding? I want to talk to Jon. I haven't seen him in at least a month and anyway, we can't leave yet. It's too early and Freya would be pissed."

Arya looked across at Freya, who was once again flirting shamelessly with the city boys. Arya doubted whether Freya would even notice they were gone.

"Tell me what they order then." she groaned to Sansa as she tried not to catch Gendry's eye. She gulped her champagne as a sort of excited panic rose in her chest. Could she trust herself to resist temptation this time?

"Pint of Guinness, coke and water." Sansa relayed.

Just as Arya thought. The Guinness would be for Gendry, the coke for Jon and the water, presumably for Loras. Jon and Loras were working close protection for Gendry tonight. This wasn't some sort of boy's night out. This was business. Shit.

"Here they come!" Sansa hissed.

Shit. Shit. Shit. She slid off the stool for the umpteenth time that night, but intentionally this time. Gendry was making straight for her. She wasn't prepared for him, so she slipped around the back of the table, putting the table and the rest of the girls between them.

Arya was surprised, but also relieved when Margaery shrieked "Gendry Darling!" and launched herself at him, grabbing his shoulders as she clumsily air kissed him. Arya thought Margaery must be _really_ drunk, as she staggered into him and Gendry caught her. She wouldn't intentionally have fallen into his arms, would she?

Sansa was shrieking at Jon for cutting his hair and Arya took the opportunity to head for Loras. There was something she wanted to try.

"Hi Loras" she smiled shyly, in a way she hoped didn't make her look as if she was too drunk. Somewhere, in the still sensible part of her brain, she knew he was not one to be easily fooled, but at least she should pretend.

"Good evening Miss Stark." He smirked. "You girls look like you're having fun."

She nodded, biting her lip to try to stop from giggling at what she was about to ask. She'd been wondering about this and planning it since he'd challenged her to think about why it was only her who 'got' his smell. It had seemed like a scientific experiment when she was sober, now she was drunk it just seemed funny. Very funny. God she was so drunk.

"Are we still in your Christian Grey fantasy Arya? Or are you biting your lip for another reason?"

"Can I smell you again please Loras?" she asked, trying hard not to giggle.

He chuckled.

"If you must. I don't remember this happening in '50 shades' though."

She nervously closed the distance between them and, without touching him, stood on her tiptoes to smell his neck. Yum. Yes, he smelled as good as before; wonderful, with an underlying sharp, dangerous, animal edge.

"Can Sansa smell you too please?"

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, but then, the coin dropped.

"Ahh, I'm beginning to see where you're going with this."

Sansa was running her hands all over Jon's head, moaning 'I can't believe you cut off your lovely curls'. Jon was looking pretty pissed off, but as Sansa had obviously had too much champagne and as he hadn't seen her for ages, he seemed to be willing to indulge her.

Arya was trying not to look at Gendry, but she couldn't miss the fact that Margaery was still draped all over him.

Arya called her sister over, ordering her to 'Smell Loras and tell me what you think.'

Sansa did look a bit uncertain, but as Loras cocked his head to the side, by way of an invitation, Sansa leaned in closer to delicately sniff him.

"So, what do you think?" Arya urged.

"What do you want me to think?" Sansa asked.

"Come on Sansa, don't you think he smells _great_?"

"I can't actually smell anything." Sansa smiled apologetically at Loras. "Am I supposed to be guessing his aftershave?"

"Seriously?! You can't smell it?"

Sansa looked confused. Before she had time to answer, Jon cut in

"Hey, I like the way you smell mate!" Jon moved closer and draped his arm around Loras' shoulder, before pressing his nose to Loras' cheek and inhaling loudly. What was going on? Jon and Loras were acting like best mates and, if she wasn't mistaken, ice cool Loras actually looked a bit flustered by Jon's sudden attention.

"Now you mention it Arya, I've been meaning to ask him why he smells so good."

Arya and Loras looked at each other and grinned.

"Let me have another sniff then!" Sansa demanded and this time she placed a hand on each of Loras'cheeks, none too gently squashing his face and forcing his lips into a ridiculous Mick Jagger pout as she pulled his head down towards her nose.

Jon and Arya had to laugh at Loras who was rolling his eyes at the indignity of it all.

Sansa sniffed the top of his head, one side of his neck and then the other.

"No. Nothing. I don't know what you two are on about." She huffed, before shoving his head away.

"Who wants to smell me?" Gendry growled, suddenly appearing behind Arya and leaning down to nuzzle into her neck.

Oh Dear God. She had to close her eyes as his heat and that damn scent overwhelmed her. She couldn't even talk as she felt his hip gently brush against her bottom.

It was only Sansa giggling "Ok, come here then" that saved her. Gendry lightly trailed his hand across her behind as he moved away towards Sansa. Even the slightest touch from his fingertips was enough to leave a burning trail across her butt, and light a fire that raged straight down between her legs, leaving a molten trail in her panties.

Gendry snaked his arms around Sansa's waist as he bent down towards her. What the hell was he playing at? Arya wondered, suddenly angry that he was flirting with someone else – even if it was her sister.

"Hmm, I can smell _you_ ok." Sansa giggled playfully, "Guinness, and aftershave. Wait! I know this one…I'll get it in a minute…I know… its Davidoff Adventure!"

"Correct!" Gendry congratulated her.

"Hey, I bought that too!" Jon laughed "I bet you bought it for the same reason I did…"

"Ewan McGregor on a motorbike!" Jon and Gendry chorused together, bumping their knuckles in some kind of stupid, macho display of brotherhood.

"What about you Loras?" Gendry asked "Ewan McGregor on a motorbike not do it for you?"

Loras just smiled and raised his eyes skyward, as if in a silent plea for a bit of sensible conversation. Even although she was drunk, Arya knew that wasn't right. Where was the smart arsed retort from Loras? Since when did he let Gendry away with teasing him like that? What was going on? The three of them were all acting like best mates now.

So Arya answered for Loras "He doesn't wear aftershave!" she huffed.

She knew it wasn't Ewan MacGregor's aftershave that made her pants wet whenever Gendry was near. Sansa couldn't smell it – eau de wolf or whatever it was – but Jon seemed to smell something. She didn't think he would have commented on Loras' scent unless he got it too.

"Let _me_ smell you Gendry!" Margaery giggled, having pushed her way into their little circle.

Gendry looked as if he'd rather not, but he bent down anyway. Arya was pleased to see that at least he didn't touch Margaery's waist the way he'd touched Sansa.

Arya knew she was drunk, but she didn't think she was drunk enough to be hallucinating. Was Margaery really licking Gendry's ear when she was supposed to be sniffing his neck? She was seeing it, but not believing it. She was rooted to the spot watching another woman lick Him and worse, Him not doing anything to stop it! Instead of pushing Margaery away he was watching Arya for her reaction, with a smug look on his face. Ohh, it was the oldest trick in the book! He was trying to make her jealous by flirting with someone else.

Arya wasn't the only one who noticed. Loras pulled Margaery's arm, so that she staggered away from Gendry.

"Aww! What did you do that for you big bully?!" Margaery yelled.

"To stop you making a fool of yourself" Loras hissed at her. "You've had enough to drink. Come on. It's time you went home." He stood up to leave.

Arya sniggered. She supposed it didn't matter how old you were, your big brother would still try and tell you what to do. Tonight she was very glad that Loras was playing the sensible big brother.

"I'm not going home and you can't make me!" Margaery whined, sticking her tongue out at Loras before running off to join Freya and Jayne at the city boy's table. Jayne was actually sitting _on_ one of the city boys. Margaery jumped onto the lap of the next nearest, to his obvious shock but, as she snaked her arm around his neck and giggled into his ear, it didn't look as if he was going to object. After whispering something to her unsuspecting victim, she stuck her tongue out again at Loras.

Loras was seething, and about to storm over to and _make_ her leave, when Jon grabbed his arm, holding him back.

"Hey mate. It's not worth it. We don't want to start a fight and she's drunk. It's just little sister crap and nobody's bothered. Are they Arya?" he asked _his _little sister pointedly.

"No, it didn't bother me at all." she replied sweetly, smiling at Jon, before glaring at Gendry. He shrugged and tried to look all innocent, but only succeeded in looking guilty as hell. He still couldn't lie convincingly Arya though happily.

"So, how did the dress fitting go?" Jon asked, trying to change the subject. It worked as Sansa started babbling about the bridesmaid's dresses and the wedding in general. Jon and Loras tried to look interested, but Arya was sure she saw their eyes immediately glazing over. It was a pity Renly wasn't here as he would have enjoyed Sansa's blow by blow account of every stage of the wedding planning.

Gendry saw his opportunity to get Arya on her own and he took it. He strolled around their circle, towards her. This time she saw him coming, but short of running in the opposite direction, there wasn't any way she could avoid him.

"Hey babe." He murmured, trying to nuzzle into her neck again. She took an unsteady step backwards, away from him and his temptations.

He groaned with disappointment, but determinedly took another step nearer to her, his twinkling blue eyes never leaving hers. Damn those sexy blue eyes.

Trying another tack, he growled

"Loras told me you're missing me."

"Well, I don't know how he managed that, because I'm not!" Arya huffed, stepping backwards again, but this time finding her bottom bumping against a wall. There was nowhere else to run.

"Really?" he smirked, before slowly and deliberately taking another step towards her.

He was almost touching her now and she could feel his breath on her skin, his scent enveloping her and his heat warming her body. He bent down towards her neck again. She tried to lean in the opposite direction, but he just stretched further, whispering in her ear "_Extra large anatomically correct dildo_ not mean anything to you then?"

She had to fight for control of her body. She was simultaneously mortified, with a burning flush rising up her neck, while also wanting to throw herself on him and his real life, extra large, anatomically perfect dick and satisfy that burning need in her panties. She wanted him so badly, but wasn't going to give in that easily.

"Well _it_ means more to me that _you _do!" she shot back, drawing upon what little reserves of self control remained to her through the haze of the champagne and eau de Gendry.

"I can have a lump of anatomically correct plastic _or you_ and guess what? _I chose the plastic!_" she hissed angrily.

He just laughed. His laughing at her made her angrier.

"Liar, liar _pants on fire!_" he smirked, suddenly bumping her bottom against the wall as he pressed his hips into hers.

"Oooooh, they are NOT!" Arya spluttered with indignation.

She tried to slide along the wall to escape from the sweet torture of his hips. But he pinned her harder, so she could feel his erection through the stiff denim of his jeans. He placed his two palms flat on the wall, on either side of her shoulders, effectively trapping her. When he bent to whisper in her ear, there was no escaping him.

"I _know_ you're lying. I can _smell_ it. You're so wet for me you're practically dripping, your heart rate's elevated, blood pressure up, pupils dilated. Oh, and I don't need supernatural powers to see that your nipples are hard." He smirked, looking down at her chest.

_Smug Bastard!_ Was her immediate reaction, but she looked down to check if her body was really betraying her so easily. Oh dear, it certainly was and there was no air conditioning to blame this time. Her nipples were huge and clearly visible under the clingy fabric of her dress. Before she had a chance to cross her arms and hide the evidence of his effect on her, he had rubbed his thumbs over both swollen nipples.

Fuuuuck! Electricity shot straight from her breasts down south and she felt another surge of wetness soak her panties. If she hadn't been dripping before, she surely was now. She couldn't stop herself gasping and arching her back, offering herself up to him.

The look of relief and hope on his handsome face just made her want him more.

"Kiss me!" she demanded. What was he waiting for? She'd given in – he'd won. She couldn't deny herself anymore.

He moved his hands from her breasts to her face, cradling it gently. He looked into her eyes, grinning, before ever so gently starting to kiss her, but gently wasn't what she wanted. She put her hands on his back and tried to pull him closer, but he wasn't co-operating; keeping a distance between their upper bodies, while still pinning her with his hips. He feathered soft kisses over her nose and her lips. As she opened her eyes as a prelude to _demanding _that he hold her tighter and kiss her harder, she saw Jon fly past, as if on a mission.

"HmmmJonnnn" she tried to say, through Gendry's kiss, but he didn't stop. She pushed him away, breaking off their kiss.

"What?!" he yelped, indignantly.

"Jon!" she gasped, craning her neck to see where he'd gone. Gendry gently, but firmly, turned her face back towards his.

"Relax baby, he can take care of himself. Now where were we…?" He pressed his lips to hers again.

"No! Something's wrong!" she mumbled against his lips.

"He's just gone to sort out that guy who had his hand up Freya's skirt. Loras has his back. Don't worry." And again he tried to kiss her, but she was trying to twist around to see what was going on.

"How do you know that?" she demanded

Gendry groaned deeply.

"I can hear _everything_. I just heard him discuss it with Loras ok? Jon's fine. Ignore them. Pay attention _to me_."

She could hear Jon shouting and girls screaming. She _had_ to see what was happening, so she ducked down and under his arm.

"Shit!" Gendry exclaimed, this time letting her go. "I just can't catch a break."

Arya got out just in time to see Jon ram the heel of one hand into a city boy's nose, while simultaneously punching him in the chest with a hard fist. The man staggered as blood burst from his shattered nose and then collapsed backwards over a table. Glasses, champagne bottles, Freya, Margaery, Jayne and the other city boys were all sent flying.

The pinstripe suit with the fastest reactions was back on his feet in an instant. This suit obviously fancied himself as a martial artist as he came at Jon with his fists up, aiming a high kick to Jon's head. Before Arya could even yell at Jon to watch out, he had dropped to one knee and punched the guy with a swift upward jab - straight in the balls. The suit instantly folded, screaming in pain as he fell to his knees, clutching his genitals. Jon had to step back quickly to avoid the collapsing man.

"Aren't you going to help him?" Arya shriek at Gendry as two more suits advanced towards Jon.

"Nope. I'm on Doctor's orders to stay calm and out of trouble tonight."

Arya screamed in frustration. "Loras! Help him!" But Loras was leaning nonchalantly on the high table, a slight smile on his face.

"Looks to me like he's doing fine on his own." Loras drawled.

"Well I'll go and help him then!" Arya yelled, taking two, rather unsteady, steps forward before Gendry grabbed her shoulders.

"Calm down Arya! You're drunk and he doesn't need your help. Just watch!"

So Arya had to watch as the two city boys approached Jon, rather more cautiously this time. The first man launched a drunken, swinging punch that threw him off balance. Jon's sharp kick to the man's knee completed the job - suit number one was sent sprawling. The second suit seized his opportunity while Jon was busy, sending a well aimed punch at Jon's nose. Jon pulled his head and shoulders back, but not quite quickly enough, as the suit's big, square, pinkie ring caught Jon's lip with a glancing blow. Jon was quick enough to finish him off though, grabbing the man's hair, forcing his head down to collide with Jon's rising knee and smashing the city boy's face. Blood from another broken nose splattered everyone around.

Jon was crouched, ready for anyone else who wanted to take a shot, but they were all too wary now.

The suit who had his hand up Freya's skirt, was now back on his feet, clutching his smashed nose, blood trickling through his fingers and down his chin.

"What about her?" He pointed to the hysterical Freya. "I didn't know she was married and _she _didn't stop me! It wasn't _me _cheating on your goddamn brother! You fucked up the wrong person pretty boy!" he gurgled through a mouthful of blood.

Jon glared at him, wiping away the blood trickling from the corner of his own mouth on the back of his hand. He spat out some blood at the man's feet and turned away in disgust.

By now, Jayne and Margaery had their arms around Freya. Sansa was warily offering Jon a handkerchief for his burst lip. He took it, mumbling his thanks, before heading back towards Loras, who was still leaning on the drinks table.

As Jon approached, Loras lazily held up his open palm, which Jon slapped, in a high five.

Arya was furious with the two of them.

"You're congratulating him?" she yelled at Loras "He could've got himself killed and you're congratulating him?!"

"But he didn't. Got a cut lip right enough - must try harder Jon." Loras smirked.

Jon glared at Arya while he dabbed the corner of his mouth with Sansa's embroidered handkerchief.

"What do you think I should have done Arya? Just stood and watched as that cunt fingered Robb's fiancé?"

Before Arya could answer, both Loras and Gendry shouted 'Sirens!' and immediately started picking up the girl's jackets and handbags.

"Fun's over for tonight girls. Time to get the hell out of here!" Loras barked.

With ruthless efficiency, Loras had all five girls out of the wine bar in minutes.

"We've only got one vehicle which means five people. So all the girls, with the exception of Arya, are coming with me." He barked the order in a way that indicated he wasn't going to stand for any arguing. Arya was surprised no-one gave him a salute and snapped 'Yes Sir!"

"Jon, Gendry, Arya, can you three get the hell out of here – quickly?" All three of them nodded as Loras yelled "Well what the hell are you waiting for?"

As the other girls were bundled into the black Range Rover, Gendry grabbed Arya's hand and started pulling her down the street after a running Jon.

"Wait – my heels!" she gasped as she stumbled with the first step she took. Arya could hear the sirens now. Loras roared off in the Ranger Rover as Arya struggled to remove her strappy sandals.

"For fuck's sake Arya!" Gendry hissed impatiently.

Sandals off, she was able to start running with Gendry. Jon had stopped at the end of the street, waiting for them, but they were still far away. Gendry shouted 'Just go!".

Jon managed to disappear around the corner as two sets of blue lights tore into the other end of the street.

Gendry immediately shoved Arya into the nearest darkened doorway.

"Time to make out!" he growled under his breath, before backing her into the doorway and forcing his tongue into her mouth. She was too surprised by the suddenness of it all to notice the police car driving slowly up the street, or the light being shone from the car onto them. Gendry didn't pause with the grinding or the tonguing kiss and the cops obviously mistook them for another couple shagging in a London doorway on a Friday night. The police car drove slowly to the end of the street, then back. It seemed Jon had escaped.

Gendry's height and broad shoulders made her feel as if she was invisible, hidden from the world and she clung onto him desperately as they shared a deep, sensual kiss. His denim clad thigh was shoved roughly between her legs, and she rubbed herself against it, feeling his rock solid arousal, desperate for more friction on her swollen, needy sex. She was kissing him desperately, greedily, but Gendry suddenly pulled away.

"Ohh" Arya moaned "Don't stop."

"Shhh!" He whispered and held his hand gently over her mouth, indicating she should stay quiet as he cocked his head to the side, obviously listening. She couldn't hear anything.

"Oh shit! They've got a dog." he groaned.

Keeping one hand over her mouth he turned slowly around. She watched in dumbstruck disbelief as his eyes began to glow orange in the darkness. He opened his mouth in a snarl, baring canine teeth that elongated even as she watched.

Arya didn't so much hear him growl, as feel it. She could see his throat and lips move and feel the vibration of a low rumble through his hand against her mouth and through his thigh pressed between hers.

She heard the dog's reaction though; it whined and yelped with fear.

The dog handler cursed with surprise at the high pitched yelps and tried to urge the dog on, but the animal only whined higher and harder. From the grunts coming from the man, she imagined he was trying to physically pull the dog up the street towards them while the dog was doing everything it could to get as far away as possible from the big, bad wolf in the doorway.

Another, more distant voice shouted

"Hey Joe! We've found some coke. We need the dog down here!"

Joe yelled back "I don't know what's wrong with this damn dog tonight. I've never seen him like this before! He just won't go any further; it's like he's terrified."

"Forget it!" replied the other voice. "We're on a drugs bust now. Looks like a reasonable haul too."

As the dog and the cop retreated, Gendry's eyes returned to normal and he relaxed his hand over Arya's mouth, but increased the pressure between her legs. Ignoring what she had just seen him do, she dug her nails into his shoulders and ground down onto his thigh, moaning softly; desperate for a release for the sexual tension that had been building since he'd first walked into the bar.

"We need to go."

"But I'm so close to coming." she gasped.

With a lecherous smile he pushed her back into the darkest recess of the doorway. He sank to his knees in front of her, pushing her skirt up around her waist as he did so, exposing her stocking tops and soaking panties. She could feel his scalding hot breath on her thighs as he made short work of her panties, somehow ripping both sides easily and letting them fall to the ground, before gently pushing her legs further apart and burying his face in her hot, sticky sex. She felt his breath on her bare cunt, heard him inhale and felt his heat as he exhaled. She instinctively knew what he was doing; smelling and savouring her arousal. Did she smell as good to him as he did to her?

His strong, warm hands were stoking the crease at the top of her legs where they met her bottom, kneading her buttocks and pulling the cheeks of her arse apart to let his hot breath flow right over the whole of her sex and arse. The sensation of the wetness on her bare pussy drying and tingling under his hot breath was exquisite, but it wasn't enough. She wanted more and pushed herself down on his face, grabbing at his hair as she tried to rub herself off him, needing her relief.

To her intense pleasure, she felt his tongue lick long and slow between her velvet lips. She groaned loudly as his tongue found her hot, greedy cunt and explored it deeply. She'd never felt his tongue so far inside before; exploring her, searching for that elusive G spot, up behind her pubic bone. Just as he was about to find his prize, he withdrew and gave her another long, slow lick, ending with his speciality- that double flick on her clit. She jolted, almost toppling over. This was better than it had ever been before, and it had been wonderful then. His tongue seemed longer, rougher, more demanding than she remembered.

She entwined her fingers in his silky hair and pulled his head back, so she could see his face. As she suspected, his eyes were half shut with lust, but burning orange. His nostrils were flared with animal lust, face shining in the half light, slick with her juices. She was being fellated by a wolf and she didn't care anymore; she only wanted _more. _She forced his head back down into her cunt and he sucked and licked and probed until she came hard, like she'd never come before, almost collapsing onto his face; with only his strong arms keeping her upright.

He let her rest for a moment, before setting her on her feet and standing up himself. He crushed his lips on hers and let her taste herself on his tongue and his lips. She could feel the length of his cock pushing against her stomach. For a moment she thought that he was going to lift her up and impale her on his rock hard cock, to satisfy himself and no doubt her again too. But he broke away and took her hand, looking up and down the street before pulling her after him. Her legs were still wobbly and all she wanted was to be back in that door way, being fucked like a whore, but he had another plan.

He made her run. She was so glad she had been training with Brienne; otherwise, she wouldn't have been able to make it past the end of the street.

Once they were a few streets away, Gendry stopped. He wasn't even out of breath, but Arya was beginning to feel tiredness wash over her in waves. Drinking too much champagne and then having a knee trembling orgasm, wasn't good preparation for a run. It also felt very strange running with no panties on, the breeze whipping around your privates.

"Does Jon know where your flat is?" he asked

"Yes." She panted in response.

"I'll tell him we'll meet him there."

Gendry took out his phone and sent texts to Jon and Loras. He received two confirmations, almost immediately.

"I've asked Loras to come and pick us up there."

Arya wasn't going to argue.

"It's not too far. Can we just walk? Please?" she pleaded, taking his hand and starting to walk in the direction of her flat.

He must have agreed, as he followed where she led.

The streets they had to walk down to get to her flat were residential and silent. Lights were on in apartment windows and, as they walked, they caught glimpses of normal life through open curtains.

As they walked past one window, they could see a couple sitting on a couch, watching a Friday night chat show. The guy had a beer in one hand, his other arm around the girl who was snuggled into his shoulder. To anyone else it might have looked boring, but to Arya it looked like bliss.

"I wish that was us." Arya sighed wistfully.

Gendry wrapped his arm around her shoulder. She snuggled in, just like the girl on the couch.

"I know you do Babe" he whispered as he kissed the top of her head. "That will be us, soon enough – but we'll be sat in a castle watching TV."

"_Your _castle." She groaned.

"_Our _castle!" he replied and she could tell he was smiling as he said it.

"Do you still have your ring Arya?"

She nodded.

"Will you put it back on for me? I don't like it when you don't wear it."

She nodded again, too tired to argue.

They walked in silence for a few more minutes, but he was tense and she could tell that something was bothering him.

"What would you do for your family Arya?" he asked suddenly, out of the blue.

"I would have said _anything_ until two weeks ago. But now…I would still do anything for my brothers or for Sansa, but I'm not sure about my mum and dad." She sighed heavily. Why did he have to ask such difficult questions when her head was beginning to hurt and all she wanted to do was go to sleep?

"Why do you ask?" she wondered.

"Loras and Renly want me to do something…something unpleasant. I don't want to but they tell me it's for the good of…for the good of…"

"The Pack?" she finished for him. Despite her extreme tiredness, fresh news of Renly's scheming still had the power to annoy her.

"Yeah" he agreed miserably.

"I would say _fuck Renly_ and let him sort out his own mess, instead of getting you to do his dirty work for him." She spat. She never used the 'F' word, unless it was during sex when she couldn't really help herself, but the thought of Renly using Gendry as his pawn riled her. Yes, she decided, someone should definitely _fuck Renly_, but not Loras who she was actually, grudgingly, beginning to rather like.

"What if I kind of made the mess in the first place?"

"Oh for God's sake Gendry! Stop talking in riddles. Either tell me exactly what you _allegedly_ did, and what Renly wants you to do about it, or just make your own mind up. I can't make the decision for you when you won't even give me the facts" she moaned. Her head hurt too much just now to think about it.

He didn't reply and they walked on a bit further in silence.

"So are you going to tell me or not?" she nagged, tiredness and frustration making her bad tempered.

She could see that he was torn. Any other time she would have pushed him until he told her, but right then, she didn't care. He could go and play his stupid Werewolf games with Renly and Loras as long as they left her out of it.

"Not" he eventually answered reluctantly and, for once, she just let it go.

In another five minutes they were outside her flat. The lights were all on.

"Brienne's in." Arya explained.

"Oh great." Gendry moaned sarcastically as he took out his phone and read the messages.

"She won't mind if you stay over." Arya coaxed. A long, slow screw before falling asleep would be heaven right now.

He seemed distracted by the messages.

"Umm no. I can't."

Arya's face fell. She was giving him what he said wanted and he was rejecting her?

He lifted her chin up so she was looking into his blue Baratheon eyes.

"It's not that I don't want to. You know I do. But _I can't._"

He groaned deeply when he saw the hurt look that crossed her face.

"Remember what happened after the funeral Arya?"

He took hold of her wrists and gently pushed the bangles out the way, exposing the small, circular scabs. A pained expression crossed his face before he lifted each wrist in turn up to his lips and gently kissed the marks he'd made. For a terrible moment she thought he was going to bite her and the memory of his blood lust in the car park came flooding back.

"I'm so sorry I hurt you and I never want to take the change of doing that again. I couldn't control _it_. But I'm getting better. Really I am. Loras is teaching me. I'm not ready yet, I'm still scared I'll loose it if we go all the way and we both know what that could mean." He finished sadly.

She gulped, knowing exactly what it could mean – the same thing it meant for Lyanna.

"So, I need time Arya. Will you give me time? Will you wait for me?"

She nodded but asked "What about tonight, in the door way? That was…_great!_" she flushed, embarrassed at admitting she liked the wolf thing. Dear God she'd _loved_ the wolf thing. It scared her shitless, but she wanted him to do that to her again.

He grinned. "I'm glad I was able to satisfy Milady!" he laughed, teasing her.

She punched his chest, they way she used to when he called her that.

"Don't flatter yourself big guy! I wasn't _fully_ satisfied!" she pouted playfully.

"Oh, God, you're such a temptation Arya. You know that?"

She was delighted to hear it. Maybe he was going to stay after all.

"But what we did in the doorway isn't the same as…you know…making love and I don't think I could control it when we do that…yet."

"Well, we don't have to shag then. We could do other things." She urged. God, she was begging now.

He groaned and ran his hands through his hair.

"Do you really think I could stand that? Being in bed with you all night and not being able to make love to you? Look, Renly's midsummer charity ball is in ten days time. Will you come to Storm's End for that?"

She nodded, but her disappointment that he wouldn't stay was plain to see.

"I'm going to try and be ready then. It's not long and I'm going to try so hard Arya, I'm going to do it _for us_. Let's start again in ten days time Arya. Let's wipe the slate clean, forget everything we did before and make a fresh start for us both."

He was talking in riddles again. Wipe the slate clean? Why would she want to forget everything they'd done? She supposed he was talking about the car park again.

"If I can control it, will you marry me?"

"If you can control it - Yes." She promised and meant it this time.

He kissed her softly, but although she parted her lips for him, desperate for his tongue, he pulled away.

"Just go in. You're getting cold."

"Won't you even come in for a cup of tea?" she pleaded, beginning to shiver now he wasn't beside her, keeping her warm.

"No." He was adamant.

She sighed and reluctantly knocked the door.

"See you in ten days then?" he asked.

She said yes, but when Brienne opened the door and she turned around to kiss him goodbye, he was already gone.

-o-

Gendry watched from the shadows across the street as bloody Brienne answered the door. He saw Arya look around for him. He whispered 'goodnight' under his breath, knowing that she couldn't hear him. Yet. Hopefully it wouldn't be too long. Jon was next. Then Arya, if everything went according to Renly's plan.

Ten minutes at least until Jon turned up, probably more for Loras. When he'd told Jon and Loras he was going to Arya's flat, he'd received warning texts from them both.

'Self control and no sex!' from Loras and

'Hurt her and I'll kill you' from Jon.

Very supportive Jon. But he'd been a good boy and resisted temptation, well mostly. He was proud of himself for being able to hold it together in the doorway. He'd used the wolf inside to his advantage _and hers_. He grinned to himself as he thought of her wriggling on his face. How many other men could do _that_? And that thing with the dog; Loras had told him that, as top predator, all other animals reacted in fear, but he'd never experienced it before. It was a buzz to know you were top dog.

It had been oh so tempting just to fuck her then and there, but he wasn't stupid! He realised himself it wasn't safe for them to have sex yet. He would _never_ take the risk of hurting her again. He had managed to have a wank the other day without turning and he'd got pretty damn excited tonight and still held it together. It was all progress!

He decided to wander around Arya's building while he waited. Check out security at the back.

There was an access lane to the rear of the buildings, for refuse collection and the like. No wonder Loras had initially refused them permission to stay there, insisting on the Dorchester Hotel instead. This place was a security nightmare, but apparently Brienne had overseen several, very expensive, security modifications. He'd had to sign the invoices off a few days ago in the office.

As he wandered down the lane, he could see the light on in one of the back rooms; probably a bedroom - maybe Arya's.

He stood and looked up at it for a few minutes. Although Arya's flat was technically ground floor, the front of the house had a basement level and the lane at the back was lower than the street, meaning that the bedroom window was only about six feet above his head. He could get up there easily enough.

He pulled a bin over and jumped up on it. A four feet standing jump to balance on the bin was easy _for the wolf_. From there he could easily reach the window ledge, now only a few feet above his head. He pulled himself up so he could see over the window sill. He could see where the bullet proof Perspex had been fastened to the wall, protecting the window. At least Baratheon Enterprises was getting what it paid for.

The curtains were drawn and he couldn't see into the room, but higher up, the curtains didn't meet. Light shone through the chink at the top where they hadn't been properly closed. If he got his head up there he could check on her. Make sure she was ok.

He hauled himself up onto the window ledge easily enough, but the sill wasn't very wide and he had to turn his boots sideways to make them fit. His nose was literally pressed up against the glass. However the discomfort was worth it as he could see her. The gap in the curtains was only wide enough for him to see through with one eye, but that probably lessened the chances of her seeing him.

She was already changed out of her dress and into her night clothes - an oversized black T shirt. Aw, shit, why could she not be naked? She never used to wear anything in bed when she slept with him. He would have liked to see her naked again, as ten days seemed a very long time to wait, but he got a surprise when she turned around. It was his 'Team Green Kawasaki' T shirt. He'd wondered where that had gone! He'd assumed laundry at The Dorchester or Storm's End had lost it somewhere, but she'd obviously taken it. Little minx. It gave a thrill to think she'd been wearing _his_ T-shirt to bed all this time. His cock twitched as he remembered what she look like under it.

The prespex was totally blocking any smells reaching him and it was strange to be watching her and not smelling her. He was surprised how easily he'd come to accept his heightened senses as normal. He watched her snuggle down under the covers and reach across to switch off the bedside light.

'Sweet dreams' he murmured under his breath, hoping she was going to be dreaming about him. He was contemplating the best way to get down from the window ledge when he saw movement again in the room.

His eyesight in the daylight wasn't much better than it had been before. It was different, in that he had greater peripheral vision and it was as if someone had turned the contrast button up a few notches, but it wasn't the extreme transformation that had occurred with his sense of smell. However, night time was a totally different matter. He could see almost as well in the dark now as he could see in the light, and he saw Arya's hand poke out from under the duvet, open the top drawer of her bedside cabinet and pull something out. Something? It looked like an anatomically correct lump of silicone.

He had to stop himself from laughing out loud. She could try and deny she missed him all she wanted, but here was the proof that she was at least missing _part _of him. Naughty girl.

The 'extra large' dildo certainly lived up to its name. The bit of him that she seemed to be missing, his cock, swelled with pride at the thought of her choosing _that _as his substitute. It had disappeared under the covers and she was screwing her face up in concentration as she did something with it under the covers. God, he loved her beautiful face even more when it was all scrunched up as he made her cum.

He was so engrossed watching Arya, willing her to throw back the covers and wondering what to do with the throbbing in his pants that he hadn't been aware of anything else. He certainly hadn't heard Jon walking down the lane. He got a genuine fright when his best mate hissed "What the fuck are you doing?!" from six feet below.

Gendry lost his grip on the wall. He wobbled comically for a second or so then, knowing he was going to fall one way or another, he decided to go for it. He pushed his feet off from the window ledge as hard as he could and threw himself backwards. He gracefully executed a perfect back flip and landed in a crouch, just like Iron Man. If he'd been in the Olympics, that would have been a ten! The most amazing thing was that it had been so easy!

"Yes!" he hissed triumphantly as he straightened up. The adrenaline rush made him punch the air. What a buzz! He'd need to try moves like that more often.

"Did you see that?" he asked Jon excitedly.

Jon was stony faced and certainly didn't seem impressed by the perfectly executed back flip.

"I see the tent in your trousers! Were you doing a fucking 'peeping tom' on Arya?" Jon demanded.

"Ummm, errrr…." Gendry stumbled over his reply, not immediately finding any plausible excuse for being caught with his face pressed against the glass of Arya's bedroom window.

"That's fucking sick! If I didn't think you'd kill me, I'd take you down right now!"

"Wait a minute Jon" Gendry pleaded, holding up his hands. "We're cool. She invited me inside, but I said no, like we agreed. I just wanted to make sure she was alright." Which was the truth… kind of.

"Yeah right! I know you too well Gendry. The sooner one of you bites me the better. I'm sick of being the only one around here who's _fucking normal_!"

And with that Jon stomped off, back down the lane.

Gendry allowed himself a satisfied smile. Ok, so Jon was pissed at him, but at least Jon was coming around to the idea of joining The Pack. Next full moon there would be four.

He took a last look up at Arya's window, wondering if she'd cum yet and if she'd moaned his name when she had. He'd ask her in ten day's time.

Once he'd got the Cersei job out of the way they could start again and everything would be all right.


	23. Chapter 23 - Revenge

**Chapter 23**

**Revenge**

Gendry deliberately got there early. He had parked his Aston Martin as close as he could to the shop where he was due to meet Robb. It was just off Saville Row, not far from Renly's tailor, but today he was to be fitted for a kilt rather than a suit.

Apparently buying a made-to-measure kilt in London wasn't that easy and Robb had arranged for a kilt maker to travel down from Edinburgh specially. Robb had even arranged two different fittings, as he didn't want Gendry bumping into the rest of the wedding party – specifically Lord Stark. Great omen for the day itself wasn't it?

Gendry couldn't help himself; he wanted to show off his car. Robb had been given his first Mercedes as soon as he turned seventeen. It had been an old 190, previously driven by Catelyn. It had been built like a tank, which was just as well as Robb had rolled it within the first few weeks. Gendry chuckled at the memory.

Robb had been driving. As he was the oldest (and the richest) he had a car before the rest of them and, back in those days, he was always the one driving. Gendry, (being the biggest) always got the front seat, with Jon and Theon in the back. It had been raining and Robb had been showing off as usual, rally driving the old Merc on the back roads of Winterfell estate. He'd taken a corner too fast and they'd found themselves upside down in a ditch. Luckily they'd all been wearing seatbelts and it was a testament to German engineering that the four of them had managed to clamber out unhurt and roll the car back onto it's wheels again. Apart from a few scrapes, the Merc looked and drove as if nothing had happened.

Whether it was because of the fright Robb got that day, or simply Ned's influence, Gendry didn't know, but ever since then, Robb had always stuck to Mercedes. As he bought a new one most years, he'd owned almost ever model at some point, but always, always Mercedes.

Gendry had never had a new car. He'd had a few second hands heaps that he'd struggled to keep filled with petrol. His beautiful big bike, the ZZR1400 was the first vehicle he'd ever managed to buy new and even that with a hefty loan. He had been immensely proud of the bike. Now he had an Aston Martin, he sure as hell was going to show it off.

Just before 3pm he saw Robb's sporty white Merc pull into the street. Robb parked and walked towards the shop, checking his watch. Gendry was always early and Robb was obviously surprised to be here first. It obviously never occurred to him to check the driver of the parked Aston Martin, sitting waiting patiently in front of the shop.

Robb did a double take when he saw Gendry getting out of the big, black supercar.

"Oh, hey mate! I didn't see you there."

Gendry couldn't keep the huge grin off his face.

"Like my new wheels?"

Robb was obviously shocked, spluttering 'where on earth did you get that?"

Gendry smirked.

"Let's just say… being a bloody Baratheon has its compensations."

Robb gave a long, low whistle and walked around the car as Gendry stood proudly by. How many times had he enviously explored Robb's new cars? A dozen at least. It felt good to be the smugly modest one for a change.

"So you're doing ok?" Robb asked, peering in the tinted driver's window. Gendry pressed the key fob. The car unlocked with a chirrup. Robb sat in the driver's seat, stroking the steering wheel and examining all the gadgets.

"Yeah, well, it's all big business now. It's a bit different from Tobho Mott's garage" Gendry grinned, resting his arms on the roof and bending down to talk to Robb through the open window.

"So, what does Arya think of this?"

That was a bit awkward. Arya had only been in it once – when Loras had driven it to Storm's End. Gendry didn't want to have to start explaining why Arya hadn't been in it since.

"We've been so busy; we've not had much of a chance to go anywhere yet."

"Hmmm." Robb muttered, looking at Gendry suspiciously. "You and Jon bugger off together, Arya has a fight with Dad and is supposed to be with you, but she's not…"

Gendry started to protest but Robb held up his hand to silence him.

"Look Gendry, Sansa told me the engagement was off and I know Arya's back in the flat in London with no money. I've been making sure Dad doesn't know, or he'd chuck her out of there too. I really can't believe it. She was always his favourite and he won't tell me what she did wrong – apart from running off with you and you're not that fucking awful. It just doesn't add up."

Gendry was shocked. Arya had no money? Arya always had plenty of money, but it was Stark money and if Ned had chucked her out, then he'd probably stopped her allowance too. Why hadn't Arya said? Too proud to ask probably, but why hadn't Renly said anything and why hadn't he realised himself? Shit, he'd been so wrapped up in what was happening to him and pissed off at her for leaving, he hadn't thought about what she was going through. He'd need to make it up to her somehow.

Gendry wasn't really listening to Robb who was off on another rant…

"…and God only knows what Sansa is up to. She's shacked up with some older guy she doesn't want any of us to meet and says she's going to sail around the world! I mean for fuck's sake! Princess Sansa slumming it on a yacht for a year with some hairy arsed sailor! Surely she knows there are no bloody shops in the mid Atlantic?! The world's gone mad." He sighed dramatically. "At least you are still my Best Man. I know _you _won't let me down mate."

"Of course I won't!" Gendry exclaimed emphatically, although he had intended to suggest that very thing. How the hell was he going to get through a wedding as Best Man when the father of the groom wanted to kill him? Added to that, he'd witnessed the bride enjoying a fingering by another man. The whole goddamn wedding was shaping up to be a heap of fun. At least there was the stag night…

"So what do you fancy for your stag night? Money's no object now! Ibiza or Amsterdam? We could even do New York! What do you think?"

"Aww, thanks, but let's keep it simple and close by."

"Whaaat? I'm offering to fly us all to party central and you want to stay in bloody Westeros?"

Robb looked embarrassed. "I don't want to leave Talisa for too long."

"My God! You don't want to go on a stag weekend because you don't want to leave your lover – the one you're NOT marrying? Dude you are fucked." Gendry groaned.

"Come on, enough chat, let's do this." Robb muttered as he led the way into the shop.

So Gendry found himself getting measured all over the place, all over again. He did wonder if there wasn't a Saville Row database somewhere they could have just used. Anyhow, he did get to try on a kilt for the first time in his life. It was a bright red tartan. Robb assured him that the one Freya had chosen was modern and much more subtle. 'Scottish Rugby Tartan' the salesman had told them proudly in a broad Scottish accent. Oh great. Gendry liked a bit of Rugby - Westeros rugby, not bloody Scottish rugby. He knew he'd feel like a traitor when he wore it.

So, with the bloody red kilt wrapped around his waist, he was made to kneel on the floor. Apparently the kilt just had to touch the ground as he knelt. More damn measuring.

He had to ask – 'what am I supposed to wear under it?'

"Well, if you were a true Scotsman you widdnae have tae ask!" the salesman laughed.

"You Sassenachs can wear whatever you want. I can get some matching tartan boxers if you like?"

Gendry and Robb looked at each other and shrugged. What the hell. "No boxers!" they chorused together.

Gendry had hoped that he and Robb could have gone for a pint together after the kilt fitting, or at least a drive in the Aston Martin, but Robb sheepishly confessed he wanted to leave as soon as possible. Talisa was waiting in a nearby hotel. Robb wanted to sneak in some 'afternoon delight' before he had to go back to Winterfell.

"Your flat being out of commission is costing me a fortune in hotel bills!" Rob grumbled, "But I can't leave her alone. Knowing the wedding is approaching is making me want her more." Robb confessed.

"Are you going to end it after you're married then?" Gendry asked. He was beginning to agree with Jon – this wedding shouldn't be going ahead in the first place.

"I don't know if I can" Robb admitted.

"For fuck's sake Robb! You're playing a dangerous game. How long do you think it'll be before _your wife_ notices you're shagging someone else and what if Talisa ends up pregnant – do you want another Jon?"

Robb glared at him. "That's not going to happen!"

"Oh yeah? You wearing a condom every time? What happens when Talisa gets sick of being second best? You know what women can be like when they get an idea in their heads. You'd better watch out mate."

"I know." Robb groaned.

"So tell me this…" Gendry asked, thinking of his own imminent problem. "Do you have any problems…you know…_getting it up_ for the other one?"

"I haven't had sex with Freya yet." Robb confided.

"Whaaat?!" Gendry gasped. "You're seriously going to marry her and you haven't even shagged her yet?"

"She's a virgin and she's saving herself for our wedding night."

"What?!" Gendry was incredulous. Freya a virgin? Saving herself for her wedding night? They way she teased that suit in the wine bar? Gendry decided to keep his suspicions to himself. Perhaps he'd encourage Loras could do a little of his 'research' on the virtuous Freya.

"So, anyway, when the time comes – on your wedding night – do you think you're gonna be able to do the dirty deed? "

"I'm going to lie back and think of Talisa. I'm figuring with my eyes closed it shouldn't make any difference."

"Hmmm." mused Gendry, unconvinced. He wasn't sure it was as easy as closing your eyes, but he was damn sure Robb was going to get screwed by one or other of them.

-0-

Renly, Loras and Gendry had decided that Jon needed to see the pictures. Gendry would rather have kept them a secret but, as Renly pointed out, if the photos came out in the coming months or years, the worst thing would be that they hadn't warned Jon. Gendry then lobbied for the last photo to be left out – but he was out voted by the other two.

So, the night before his arranged meeting with Cersei, Gendry reluctantly brought Jon into the dining room for an after dinner 'discussion'. The intention was to go over the plan for the next day, but first Jon had to be shown the photos.

Loras and Renly were waiting. Loras was working away at a black and red bundle in his lap with a pair of small scissors. He barely acknowledged their presence, radiating simmering tension. Renly looked up as Gendry and Jon walked in, nodding over to Loras and rolling his eyes, wordless communicating; 'we've got a problem.'

Jon headed for the bar while Gendry wandered over to the huge, curved window and stood for a while, looking out at Shipbreaker bay. The late evening sun still sparkled on crystal blue waves capped with white, whipped up by a brisk westerly breeze. The beautiful view certainly didn't reflect Gendry's own dark mood.

He smelled the unmistakable peaty aroma of Laphroig; Renly's favourite malt whisky, then matches and cigars. Tearing his eyes away from the hypnotic motion of the waves, he turned around to see Loras still working with his scissors while Renly and Jon relaxed with their whisky and cigars.

Gendry picked up the whisky Jon had poured for him and dropped into a chair opposite Loras.

"What're you doing?"

Loras looked up at him with strangely fevered eyes. Gendry was shocked to see that, when he stopped working, his hands were shaking.

"Getting ready for tomorrow." He snapped, shooting a warning look towards Jon.

The message was clear - Jon needed to see the photos before 'tomorrow' could be discussed.

Renly got up and brought over the white envelope. He wordlessly handed it to Jon.

Gendry felt his stomach tighten into a knot. Was Renly not going to explain first?

"You're going to get a shock Jon." Gendry warned. "Just try and keep calm and Renly will explain the plan of action to you."

Renly snorted and glared at Gendry. Gendry shrugged. It wasn't _his_ fucking plan. It was Renly's idea, so he could bloody well explain it to Jon.

All three of them watched intently as Jon drew the photographs out of the envelope.

"Jesus Fucking Christ!" he spat after he saw the first one.

"Aww, for Fuck's sake!" after the next, and on in a similar vein; giving them a running commentary of obscenities. Jon's voice got louder and angrier as he went through the photos.

Gendry steeled himself for the reaction to the last one.

"_You fucking bastard Gendry!_" Jon yelled, jumping up and striding over to whack Gendry on the head with the photos.

Gendry didn't try and defend himself; he just cringed and muttered "I already said I was sorry."

"_Sorry doesn't fucking cover this mate!_" Jon ranted and whacked him again, this time rolling up the photos first, so he could hit harder.

"Oww!" It hurt that time.

Jon raised his arm, intent on landing another blow, but Renly barked 'Enough!'

Jon paused mid air, then with a snarl, quickly whacked Gendry again before stomping back to the couch and throwing himself down on it.

"Let's hear this fucking plan then and it better be a good one!" Jon huffed as Gendry rubbed his aching head.

Renly sighed and began…

"Cersei Lannister brought these photos to Gendry with the intention of blackmailing him. We have agreed that, at the moment, the threat of blackmail is somewhat empty as, no-one knows Daenerys Targaryen is your aunt Jon and, to be brutally frank, no-one cares who either of you fuck – _even if it is each other._"

Renly paused while Gendry groaned and Jon buried his head in his hands.

"However, in the years to come, the situation might be rather different. As your public profiles inevitably rise and you possibly end up with different partners…" Renly raised his eyebrows at Gendry, who glowered back "…the potential for blackmail will increase."

"So we need to neutralise this threat _now_." Loras interjected; his tone cold and hard.

Renly nodded in agreement. "As Loras is fond of saying, '_the best form of defence is attack_'."

"_So we attack that Nazi bitch!_" Loras snarled.

"Nazi?" Jon blurted out. "I thought they disappeared after the Second World War?"

"Think again!" Loras hissed. "There are plenty of ultra right wing fascists about. They may not call themselves Nazi's but they believe in all the same shit."

"Lannisters" Renly sighed. "They think they're untouchable and openly collect Nazi memorabilia. Their desire to collect at all costs has driven the price for originals through the roof."

"And whose pockets do they line when they pay for this shit? Who's still got this stuff to sell?" Loras demanded. No-one could answer his question, but the implication wasn't pleasant.

"So the Lannisters are Nazi collectors and apologists. How does that help _me_?" Jon asked.

"If we can get pictures of Cersei that are as _compromising_ as the ones she has of you then we've got a counter threat. She goes public – so do we."

"And how do you propose to get pictures like that?" Jon wondered.

"Well we've got the Nazi uniforms. It shouldn't be too hard to get a picture of her in a damning pose. Giving a Nazi salute would be good, but that in itself isn't enough."

"She could always drag out the old 'fancy dress party' excuse." Loras warned. "So we need something _more_."

"Which is where Gendry comes in. The lovely Cersei made it clear that she is open to a…sexual liaison … with him, which is obviously wildly in appropriate in the circumstances. Until a few weeks ago, Cersei was technically his step mother."

Gendry shifted uncomfortably in his seat and felt that knot of apprehension in his stomach tighten.

"We will take advantage of her arrogance and stupidity and we get the compromising photos we need!" Loras vowed.

"_If_ you get them, does this will mean that the photos of Danni and I are useless to them and that I can effectively forget about them?" Jon demanded.

"They'll be effectively neutralised – yes." Renly agreed. "After all, fucking your step son is worse than fucking your Aunt - wouldn't you agree?"

Both Jon and Gendry glared at Renly.

"You don't have to fuck her Gendry." Loras sighed. "That would be giving the bitch what she wanted. Just get us some compromising photos."

"And how do you suggest I do that? There's NO WAY I'm doing it with her!" Gendry yelled.

"You're a big boy. You'll think of something." Loras smirked.

"We can't give you a script. You'll have to wing it. You'll have the Nazi stuff and anything else you need. Just make sure she doesn't suspect, as we'll not get another chance like this."

"_You'd better not fuck this up Gendry! You owe me! You need to get this straightened out for me!_" Jon ranted.

Gendry nodded miserably. He didn't seem to have any other option.

"Here's your outfit for tomorrow." Loras held up a black military uniform jacket, shockingly revealing a red swastika band hanging off the arm. Loras had obviously been unpicking the stitches with the scissors. An iron cross, two Death's Head badges and random medals he'd already removed were scattered around him.

"At least this is only a costume. Fortunately we couldn't source an original in Gendry's size. I can't believe sick fucks actually collect this stuff …and pay a fortune for it."

"Lannisters" interjected Renly bitterly.

Loras ripped the last few stitches away, tearing the swastika arm band off the jacket.

"Gendry's not wearing this!"

"It's just a costume" Renly argued. "We need it to get the compromising photos!"

"It's _not_ 'just a costume'! _You know_ what this symbolises and _why_ the fuckers still collect this stuff. I served Renly! I was in a pack before this, I had brothers in arms before you and I'm not going to disgrace their memory by letting Gendry wear this shit."

Loras held the red armband up and lit a match under one corner. With a satisfied look on his face, he dropped the burning swastika into a large crystal ashtray and watched it burn.

"You'll get your compromising photos, but not of Gendry. The Nazi bitch's jacket is over there" He nodded to a table in a far corner "I had to seal hers in a bag… and if you're going to open it, take it far away from me first."

"Why?" Gendry wondered.

"Open it and you'll see." Loras grunted.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Gendry picked up the bag. It was only a dry cleaner's, cellophane bag, wrapped tightly and sealed with tape. A similar SS uniform to the one Loras had been working on, was visible through the cellophane.

Gendry glanced at Loras, who was focused again on removing the remaining Swastikas from the jacket, then at Renly, who just shrugged and took a slug of his whisky.

There was a small office down the hall. Gendry took the package there to open it, but he could find any scissors. He focused on the fingers of his right hand. Five razor sharp claws flicked up. Being a Werewolf came in handy sometimes.

He sliced down the full length of the cellophane in one smooth movement and immediately gagged. The smell of decay and death engulfed him like a cloud of poisonous gas. He'd never smelled anything like it before and he couldn't stand it.

He bundled the package up, as best he could, and hurried out of the office. Further along the corridor was an access door used by window cleaners and maintenance men who needed access to the outside of the castle. He heaved the metal safety bar up and pushed. The door opened out onto a narrow, railed ledge. Steel ladders embedded into the wall led up and down as far as he could see. Gendry had never been outside the castle walls on the seaward side before and he relished the fresh, salty air blowing in, cleansing his nose and his soul.

He unwrapped the jacket. Mercifully, this time most of the stench was whipped away on the westerly wind. He knotted the arms together around one of the rungs of the ladder and left it there, flapping uselessly in the wind. If any ships out in the bay decided to train their binoculars on this particular flag, they would be in for a shock.

Back in the dining room, Loras was standing at the window smoking a cigarette and Renly had his arm around his shoulder.

Jon was standing awkwardly at the bar, cradling another glass of whisky and chewing the side of his mouth nervously.

Gendry took his place beside Loras and Renly in the window.

Loras was pale, dragging on the cigarette with short, palsied movements. Renly looked bewildered and his usually immaculate hair was rather dishevelled. Gendry could tell his uncle had been victim to that stress reaction they both shared - running their hands through their hair.

"I see what you mean about the stench." Gendry agreed.

"What did you do with the jacket?" Loras asked quietly.

"I hung it out the access door. Perhaps the sea air will freshen it up overnight."

Loras snorted. "I've already had it dry cleaned - twice. I never thought that _events_ could leave an impression before, but I don't know how else you'd explain that stink…"

Gendry knew exactly what he meant. One word sprang to mind to describe it – 'evil'.

Loras took another drag on the cigarette which was almost burnt down to the filter. Seeing Gendry's surprised expression, he pulled the fag out of his mouth and looked at it - small and lethal between his fingers.

"Old soldier's habit" he shrugged.

Renly gently chided "I've never seen you smoke cigarettes before."

"I quit when I left the service" Loras sighed, "but the uniforms, that smell…its bringing back memories I've tried to forget."

Renly pulled him in a bit closer, so Loras could rest his head on Renly's shoulder. Between drags on his fag he explained.

"When I was at RAF College in Camberwell, straight out of school, some of those old guys came in as guest lecturers. These guys liberated Bergen-Belsen and Neuengamme. Christ, it didn't mean much to me then, but what does when you're eighteen? Then I fucking saw for myself." He glared bitterly at the other two. "Ethnic cleansing didn't stop in 1945." He choked bitterly.

With shaking hands he lit another fag off the remains of the first and sucked hard on it.

"The Balkans, Bangladesh and fucking Rwanda." He rubbed the back of his free hand across his eyes, as if he was trying to rub something unpleasant out of them.

Gendry had no idea what to say and neither, it seemed, had Renly. This was a previously unseen Loras; hurt and vulnerable. It came as a relief when at least part of his usual, aggressive, self returned.

"Let's fuck this Nazi bitch over and give her what she deserves!"

Then he urged Gendry "You do it _for me_ and you do it _for them_."

Gendry could only nod in agreement, already feeling oppressed by the weight of expectation riding on his shoulders…and his cock.

-0-

Gendry stared moodily out the ninth floor window of an anonymous central London hotel. The room was neither opulent nor stark, neither too retro nor too modern. Hundreds of anonymous businessmen must pass through the doors of this hotel every week. Loras had picked it precisely because of its anonymity, in the expectation that Cersei would believe this to be the first of, hopefully many, sleazy mid afternoon liaisons.

He had to admit they'd done a great job with the room. There was no evidence that the wall was anything but an ordinary wall, half covered by a large, plain mirror. But Gendry knew that, somewhere behind it, in the adjoining room Loras would be watching him through that innocuous looking mirror. He also knew that there were several cameras hidden around the room. Loras wouldn't tell him where they were, as he wanted everything to look as natural as possible and thought that Gendry might 'play to the camera' if he knew where to look.

He was dressed in the black SS uniform that Loras had so meticulously stripped of all its Nazi symbolism the night before. The only militaristic thing remaining was the silver braid around the epaulettes and the wrists. Loras wouldn't even let him wear the brown shirt that came with the outfit – deeming it to be 'too fucking realistic'. So Gendry wore the black jacket, with a white shirt, black tie and black breeches - cut wide on the thigh but laced at the knees and disappearing into shiny, black leather, knee length boots that squeaked when he walked. Hopefully the outfit would give the desired impression to Cersei, without making him look like a Nazi in the photographs..

He could feel the Viagra Renly had given him beginning to take effect already. It was an alien, unwelcome feeling to be tense and nervous, but yet to have a hard-on stirring in his pants. At least there wouldn't be any chance of him 'embarrassing himself' as Loras had so delicately put it. He didn't think that even mentally cataloguing vintage tractors – his usual coping mechanism to calm any unwanted activity in his pants - could stop _this_ erection.

She'd better hurry up and get here and Renly's plan had better fucking work.

As if on cue there was a rapid fire knock on the door. He hurried over in his creaking boots and opened it to find her waiting. She was wearing a long, cream trench coat, belted tightly around a slim waist, hair up, red lips and sky high heels. Despite himself, he felt his Viagra enhanced cock twitch. He could imagine what she had on under that coat, and it wasn't much.

He didn't say anything and simply held the door open for her as she strutted in, radiating sexual arrogance. She was obviously anticipating an afternoon of fucking – which was exactly what they were counting on.

He had a bottle of champagne ready on ice. She eased herself into one of the chairs while he popped the cork and poured two flutes of champagne. As he handed her one, she let her coat fall open, revealing a black corset which pushed up the large, creamy globes of her breasts so that just a hint of red areola was peeking above the black satin. Black stockings stopped midway up her long, slim thighs, exposing more creamy skin, with black suspenders drawing his eyes upwards towards see through black gauze panties. Blonde curls were clearly visible, trapped under the transparent material that barely covered the fleshy mound of her cunt. There was no denying she was still a stunning looking woman.

He held up his champagne glass.

"To us!" he smirked.

As she sipped, she reached one hand up to his crotch. Elegant fingers, tipped by long burgundy nails surprised him by not squeezing his cock, but rather applying gentle pressure underneath his balls.

"To fucking!" she replied, rolling his balls through the rough material of his breeches.

Looking up at him with heavily lidded, green eyes, she took another sip of her champagne, leaving a red lipstick mark on the rim of the glass.

He grinned.

"_Fuck you_" he thought, but didn't let his expression betray any of the contempt he felt.

Leaving his balls alone for the moment, she placed her champagne glass on the table at her side and stood up to remove her coat. She let it pool around her feet and stepped forward, as lithe and dangerous as a lioness stalking her prey.

He tried to keep his eyes on hers, avoiding looking at the tight corset; the tits and arse.

Up close he could see the lines on her face that no amount of expensive make up could hide. She was almost old enough to be his mother. Why did she think he would be remotely attracted to her?

She slowly started unbuttoning his jacket. He put his own glass down and helped her, unbuttoning it from the bottom up. Their hands bumped in the middle and he felt a jolt of cold reality hit him as his warm fingers touched her icy cool ones. Shit. This was really going to happen.

She reached up and eased the jacket from his shoulders.

"Hmm, I like a man in uniform" she purred, discarding the jacket and running her cool hands across his shoulders and down his biceps, He felt himself tense, but willed himself to relax. Just think of Arya. Take Robb's advice. Just close your eyes and pretend it's the woman you love undressing you.

She started on his tie, loosening it and then surprising him by grabbing it and jerking it forward and down. He wasn't prepared and he found his lips crushed onto hers as she expertly held him in place with his tie. She had obviously done this many times before.

He wasn't having that. He made no attempt to kiss her back and firmly removed her hands from his tie. She huffed and pouted, not liking his taking control. He slowly removed his tie, dropping it onto the floor on top of the growing heap of clothes.

The breeches had no belt, having braces attached with buttons on the front and back instead.

"Hmm…you know what this reminds me of?" she teased, as she slowly ran her fingers along the underside of the braces, deliberately grazing her nails over his nipples as they passed.

"No." he replied, knowing damn well what she was meaning, but wanting her to say it.

"A Nazi uniform." She whispered, stroking the braces.

"It's not."

"Pity." She sighed with disappointment. "I like a man in uniform and I like _those ones_ best."

"I thought you might." He remarked casually "…so I brought you something." He indicated the brown paper package on the table.

"Buying me presents all ready?" she teased, looking up at him with those too green eyes.

"Why not? When I know what you like." He replied, trying to sound like an enamoured lover.

She excitedly ripped open the package. It contained a massive, black vibrator and the jacket.

One night out in the sea air of Shipbreaker bay had lifted the stink slightly. Loras had doused it in air freshener then aftershave and, to Gendry, it now smelled like an explosion in a cheap perfume factory. The stench of death was still lurking in the background, if you sought it out, which he didn't.

"Ooooh!" she beamed excitedly, ignoring the sex toy. "An original pre war SS black dress jacket. How rare. How did you know?" she purred in delight as she tried it on.

"It's an open secret that the Lannisters are the mystery bidders when these things come up at auction. I just wanted to get you something you liked." _God, he couldn't believe this shit was rolling so easily off his tongue_. "Try it on. Let's see if it fits."

She shrugged it on over the black Basque and strutted over to the two-way mirror. She posed and pouted, turning this way and that, admiring her reflection. He hoped Loras was getting all this from the other side of the mirror.

"Go on – you know you want to" he encouraged. He knew _he_ wanted her to. _Come on Cersei _he willed. _Just do it. Give us the fucking salute we need._

Right on cue she obliged. Raising her right arm, striking the pose, and shouting the damn words.

He laughed. It was a release of tension. He'd got it. He needed more, but he'd got the hardest thing. The rest would be easy after this; unpleasant, but easy.

She turned around with a huge grin on her face, delighted with the jacket and herself.

"Why the Nazi's? I don't get it." He pushed, wanting her to damn herself further.

"Neither did Robert. What's not to understand? We're better than the rest – you and I. We're genetically superior. Our families have selectively bred amongst only the best for centuries. How could we not be better? We're born to rule and everyone else is inferior to us."

She walked behind him, so they were both looking in the mirror.

"You only need to look at yourself Gendry, to see the truth. Look at you – _bigger, better, stronger."_

He stared at her reflection in the mirror. He just wanted to get the hell out of there, away from this mad, twisted bitch, but the job wasn't finished yet. He thought of Loras and Jon on the other side of that mirror. He had to finish this for them; for his Pack.

"It must really fuck up your supremacist theories to have a dwarf brother then?" he drawled.

Her face twisted in rage, making her look old and bitter. "The world would be a better place if it had no dwarfs!" she ranted.

"Your own brother Cersei? You'd condemn your own brother because of some twisted ideology?"

"I have another brother who is worth ten of the dwarf. That imp would be no loss to me or to the world."

Gendry began to understand why Renly liked Tyrion so much.

_The enemy of my enemy is my friend._

How was he going to get through the next half hour? She really was a twisted bitch. He picked up his champagne glass and, ignoring her, trying to steel himself for the task, walked over to the window.

She came up stealthily behind him, before running her hands over his shoulders and back. He could smell the damn jacket but also her arousal.

"Let's not argue. You and I could be great together; my experience combined with your youth and vigour. You're just what I need to keep me young. We'd make a great team. Together we could rule the world!"

God, she sounded like a vampire, ready to drain all the youth and vigour out of him.

"You've made me very happy Gendry. How can I return the favour?" she purred wickedly.

Knowing he had to get this over with, he made himself reply. "I'm sure I'll be able to think of something."

Smiling lecherously, she began unbuttoning his shirt. He growled at her to 'wait' before yanking off her damn Nazi jacket. She laughed, enjoying his manhandling her. He threw the jacket into the furthest corner of the room.

He didn't help her with the buttons this time and simply watched as she removed his shirt, dropping it on the floor. She sighed with satisfaction as she ran her hands over his chest and abdomen, stroking his defined muscles.

"Like what you see?" He demanded.

"And what I feel" she smiled slyly, squeezing his semi-erect cock.

He'd never felt less aroused, but it seemed nothing could stop the Viagra. She pouted; disappointed he wasn't fully hard for her.

"We'll need to do something about this." She whispered as she squeezed his cock again.

She unbuttoned his breeches slowly, biting her lip, concentrating, as if unwrapping a precious gift.

She wanted him with such blatant lust it repulsed him, but he closed his eyes and conjured up an image of Arya, beautiful, naked _and his_; pretending to himself that it was her nails raking the length of his shaft and cupping his balls. Recalling the way her hair fell around her breasts, herperfect arse, her long slim legs and her naked cunt made his need to have Arya again, to hold her, to make love to her, desperate. She was the reason he was getting hard now; it wasn't the pills or this cock sucking bitch, but his memories of Arya.

"Suck it" he demanded as his cock was finally freed.

Cersei looked up at him with defiant green eyes, hating that he was the one giving the orders, but still she took him into her mouth, her red lips stretched around the glans of his cock, greedily tasting the clear liquid that had begun to appear right at the very tip. She wrapped one had around the base of his cock, licking him smoothly up and down with long, slow licks, before taking him deeper into her mouth, wrapping her tongue around his sensitive tip. With long practiced efficiency she sucked and pulled and sucked again at his cock. He had to admit she was good. Very good.

He closed his eyes again, enjoying the sensation of her mouth, warm and wet on his cock; imagining it was Arya.

He focused on all the times he'd fucked Arya and remember her hot and tight and wet on his cock and, to his surprise, felt the beginnings of an orgasm build in his balls.

Wrapping his fingers in Cersei's hair he held her head in place as he began to thrust harder into her mouth, desperate now to finish and get this over with. He felt her squirm and begin to gag as he thrust deeper into her throat, but he didn't relax his grip.

At the last moment, he roughly pulled her head backwards, his cock just pulling free of her grasping lips as he came, spurting hot cum all over her face. He held her there by her hair, pumping his cock with his free hand, milking every last drop of cum from it as she struggled and spat and closed her eyes against the spurts of milky fluid that kept coming.

She'd told him what his father had done and he couldn't resist doing it too.

"_Arya_" he groaned as he pumped the last of his cum on her face.

"You bastard!" she hissed through clenched teeth. He pushed her head away and she had to put her arms out to stop herself sprawling on the carpet. Her red lipstick was smeared across her face, her hair ruined.

"Go clean yourself up. You look like shit." He drawled contemptuously as he stood up and began fastening the buttons on his breeches.

"Fuck you!" she spat through the curtain of her ruined hair as she kneeled on all fours in front of him. He had intended to leave; surely he had done enough now? He'd taken one for the team – for the pack, but she wasn't making any attempt to get up. Before he left he had another, wicked idea.

He walked around behind her, watching her arse, bisected by the thin black string of the thong and framed by the black Basque at the top, black stockings below. He slapped one check of her arse hard, but not nearly as hard as he wanted to. A red print of his hand instantly appeared on the creamy skin.

She yelped in pain, but made no effort to move away. The bitch was enjoying this.

"Tell me how much you want me." He growled.

She replied instantly, without hesitation.

"I want you. I want you to fuck me hard and make it hurt." She moaned

"You are a whore Cersei." He spat. "Say it!"

"I'm a whore" she repeated eagerly. "I'm a cock sucking whore."

"Tell me how you fucked my father and your brother."

She laughed shrilly "I'll fuck any man or woman who can give me what I want. Now are you going to do me or just stand there talking about it?"

He grabbed the massive black vibrator and dropped it onto the floor beside her.

"What are you going to do with that?" she looked warily at him over her shoulder. For the first time he saw a hint of fear in her eyes.

"You'll see."

Guessing what he was planning, she tried to scramble away, but he caught her by her hips and dragged her backwards, dropping to his knees behind her and burying one hand in her hair, holding her firmly so she couldn't move.

"You bastard!"

"I am, amn't I?" he drawled, before slapping the other cheek of her arse, leaving a matching red mark there. He picked up the vibrator and reached around, holding it in front of her mouth.

"Make it wet."

"No!"

"Suit yourself" he sneered as he pulled it away from her face.

"Wait!" she yelled, realising it would be better for her if she accepted his offer.

He nudged it against her cheek and this time she turned her head and took the latex rod in her mouth. He deliberately pushed it against the inside of her cheek, distorting her face to make her look like a slut in a porn movie. She sucked on the vibrator with relish. He switched it on and smiled wickedly as the lower have of her face began to vibrate in time with the sex toy.

"Now relax or this is going to hurt." He warned as he pulled the vibe out of her mouth. She had been sucking it so hard there was a satisfying 'pop' as he withdrew it.

"You wouldn't dare!"

He let his actions speak for him, manoeuvring the string of her thong out of the way and nudging the blunt tip of the black vibe against her tight anus, while still holding her head in place, his hand entwined in her hair.

"Relax!" he ordered and with a low moan she did, allowing the blunt tip of the vibe to slip in. She cursed and groaned as he exerted gentle but firm pressure behind, watching in fascination as he was able to push more and more of the massive phallus up her arse.

She soon yelped in a mixture of pain and anger. He stopped and withdrew it, before sliding it in again almost as far. This time she moaned with deep, unsatisfied need.

He repeated the process as she rested all her weight on one hand and brought the other up to her clit, rubbing at it furiously; burgundy nails making tight circles on the hard, distended nub.

She demanded that he "fuck her 'till it hurt" and pushed her arse back against him, trying to take all of the vibe now. He rotated the phallus; simultaneously pushing it in as far as it would go. She groaned and gasped the heady mixture of pleasure and pain driving her towards her orgasm and still she wanted more.

"I want your big Baratheon cock in my cunt now. Give it to me!" she ordered.

He laughed cruelly and twisted the vibe again.

"Why would I want to fuck an old whore like you Cersei?" he growled.

She came anyway, screaming his name and still uselessly demanding his cock.

He pushing her face into the carpet, making her arse stick high up in the air, with only a few inches of the big, black vibe still sticking out. He stood up, leaving her like that. She tried to reach around to get it out, but yelped with pain.

"Come on Gendry, take it out" she pleaded.

"Sure, in a moment."

He started getting dressed, pulling on his shirt, pulling the braces back into position over his shoulders, while she cursed him; screaming obscenities and demanding he take it out.

After he'd made her wait, he pulled the vibe out and threw it onto the floor beside her. She got unsteadily onto her feet.

"It's been an experience Cersei. I got what I wanted and I hope you did too." He smirked as he put his jacket on.

"Wait! When will I see you again?"

Was she for real? He'd used her, humiliated her and still she wanted more?

"How about never?" he drawled

"But we had a deal!"

"Oh, I must have forgotten to tell you – Renly wouldn't let me. He said that nothing was worth my having to fuck a dried up old whore like you – not even the Lannister 25%."

He savoured the rage and hate on her face for a few seconds, before turning for the door. She threw the black vibrator. It missed him, but hit the door with a dull thud, then landing on the floor and rolled to his feet.

Without breaking his stride, he picked it up and threw it on the bed.

"I would keep that if I were you – it might come in handy when you're old and alone."

Laughing loudly, he slammed the door behind him. Mission accomplished.


	24. Chapter 24 - Two Brothers

**Chapter 24**

**Two Brothers**

It had been easy to fetch Jaime Lannister, much easier than Brienne had expected.

The plan had been to kidnap him and force him into a car but his reputation as a decorated war hero made them wary. Loras would never leave anything to chance or risk his team unnecessarily, so they studied Jamie Lannister's movements, planned to waylay him as he walked to his club, inject him with a fast acting, powerful muscle relaxant and manhandle him into the car.

In the end that hadn't been necessary. Brienne had stopped the car in a quiet side street, asking Jaime for directions as planned. Before her two accomplices were able to approach him from behind and inject him with the syringe full of drugs, their target had jumped into the passenger seat of the hire car, offering to direct Brienne to her hotel in person. She had to drive off, leaving the other two Rainbow Guards, bewildered and thwarted, on the pavement.

Jaime was utterly charming as they made their way to the hotel, enquiring about her reasons for visiting London and the sights she'd seen so far. Brienne was in a cold sweat as the plan had gone to shit. She had to improvise. It wasn't one of her strengths, but Renly had given her a job to do and she wasn't about to let him down.

He had hand picked her for the job. He'd explained, in hushed, serious tones, that Gendry was being blackmailed by Cersei Lannister and, due to the intimate nature of the photographs the Lannisters had, Renly needed someone discreet, someone he could trust implicitly and most importantly, someone who would _never_ tell. He was very specific that Arya, in particular, must never find out. They both knew, as Brienne solemnly agreed to keep his confidence, that all of Renly's secrets were safe with her. There was no-one, other than Loras himself, that Renly trusted more.

"You've been so helpful; can I buy you a drink?" Brienne asked as she pulled the hire car into the tiny 'guests only' car park.

She tried to make the offer sound casual and inviting, but inside she was quaking with nerves. She fully expected him to refuse. When had she ever picked a man up before with the offer of a drink? Never – and she didn't believe a man as suave and sophisticated as Sir Jaime Lannister was going to be her first. It was highly unlikely he would want to suffer a drink with her, no matter how polite and well mannered he seemed. But her job was to get him up to the room and the next step was getting him into the hotel.

To her absolute amazement, he agreed.

Brienne could tell he was shocked when she got out of the car and stood up. Men always were. He was tall, but she was taller. He was lithe and slim and she wasn't. As they walked together into the hotel she felt like a carthorse. She always did.

She assumed they would stand at the bar, she would buy him a drink and he would leave as soon as possible. She'd got him into the hotel, now she somehow had to get him up to the room. At least the drink would give her time to form a plan. Perhaps, by the time the drink was finished, Emmon and Bryce might have arrived with the damn syringe and they could still salvage something from their original plan.

But Jaime surprised her again, by taking her arm in a gentlemanly way, leading her to a table in the centre of the bar and holding out a chair for her. She would much rather have sat in the corner, where she would be less conspicuous. Out here in the middle, everyone could see them. She was surprised he wasn't embarrassed to be seen with her. No doubt his usual companions were beautiful, sophisticated, graceful, normal sized women like his sister. Brienne tried to sit down as delicately as she could. He sat down opposite her, looking quite at ease and not at all embarrassed at having to sit with her. He immediately picked up the wine list.

"I insist!" he chuckled when she tried to object. As he studied the list, she studied him. It was hard to describe him as anything other than 'beautiful', but there was nothing feminine about him. His was very definitely a masculine beauty; the straight lines of his roman nose, the sharpness of his cheek bones and the slight stubble on his chin all radiated confident, male sexuality. He had bright green eyes, framed by long dark lashes. His hair was straight and golden; reaching almost to his shoulders, but swept back from his face. Deep lines at the corners of his eyes and the sides of his mouth suggested he laughed a lot, rather than aged him as he looked ten years younger than the thirty nine she knew him to be.

When he looked up, he caught her staring at him. She hurriedly looked away and felt a flush rise up her neck.

"The best they have is a Chablis Premier Cru which should be acceptable, or would you prefer something less flinty?"

She shrugged. She knew nothing about wine. Remembering she was supposed to be playing the part of the grateful tourist, she smiled and thanked him, saying 'whatever you choose will be great.'

When the waiter came to take the order, Jaime handed over a metal credit card, similar to the Baratheon ones, only his was gold instead of silver. The waiter's eyes lit up, anticipating a hefty tip.

As they waited for the wine to arrive, Jaime asked about her family and she found herself chatting away about her father and Tarth, not realising she was revealing too much about her real self until it was too late. He was such a good listener and had an easygoing, personable charm. It was scarily easy to warm to him. To her shock, she found herself likening him to Renly.

She found herself blushing again when he raised his glass, looked straight into her eyes and proposed a toast to 'chance encounters'. The wine was perfectly chilled and bone dry. When she told him it was the nicest she had ever tasted she wasn't lying. She made a mental note of the label, determined she would drink nothing else in the future.

"Now tell me about yourself." she found herself blurting out. The cold wine seemed to be loosening her tongue to a degree that wasn't safe in the circumstances.

"I like to rescue maidens in distress." He laughed. "You are a maiden I hope?" he teased, his green eyes twinkling and creasing up at the sides as she blushed _again_.

"I'm a lady and ladies don't answer such questions." She'd never described herself as a 'lady' before, but his treating her like one almost made her feel as if she could be.

"Touché! Well answered." he chuckled, raising his glass to her again.

When she eventually noticed Bryce and Emmon at the bar, she was surprised to see the wine bottle was empty and there was hardly anything left in their glasses. Jaime suggested they order another with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"You intrigue me Brienne. I've never met another woman like you."

"And I've never met a man like you." She replied, letting another revealing truth slip from her wine loosened tongue.

"That's because there are no other men like me" he laughed. She didn't doubt it. How many men fathered three children with their sister? No matter how charming she found him now, she had to remember she had brought him here for a reason. It would be so much easier for them both if she could get him up to the room without a struggle. There was only one way to find out if she could.

"How about we take the second bottle to my room?" she suggested boldly, although inside she was shaking like a leaf. This time she wasn't quite so surprised when he agreed.

He called for another bottle and pulled her chair out for her before she stood up. He really was the perfect gentleman, or at least he _appeared _to be. He took her arm with one of his, the bottle and two glasses with his other hand.

Emmon and Bryce, who were both leaning against the bar, trying to look inconspicuous, couldn't believe what they were seeing as she walked passed, arm in arm with Sir Jamie Lannister. They followed at a discreet distance, letting Brienne take Jaime up in the lift herself, while they waited on the next one.

Alone with him in the lift her heart was pounding. She had never been more acutely aware of any man's potent sexuality than at that moment. Much as she adored Renly, he didn't make her feel like this. She was at first relieved when Jaime released her arm and then shocked when he turned her towards him, took her chin gently between his thumb and forefinger and tilted her face down slightly towards his for a kiss. His lips were unexpectedly soft and tasted of crisp white wine and unspoken promise. She knew she should have refused his approach, but the wine seemed to have impaired her judgement. As she returned his kiss, she told herself anything was justified as long as she got him into the room.

He took her hand as the lift doors opened. His hand felt as big and as strong as hers and it was an unfamiliar, but thrilling sensation to have strong male fingers laced between hers.

She made sure he was in front of her as she pushed the card key into the lock. He stepped forward as the door swung open and by the time he realised Loras was waiting for them in the room it was too late. She had both of Jaime Lannister's big, strong hands cuffed behind his back. To his credit he didn't drop the bottle or the glasses and seemed totally un-phased by the turn of events.

"Ah! You kept this quiet Brienne – you should have told me you'd arranged a ménage a trios for us with the famous Loras Tyrell." Jaime chortled. "I'm flattered Loras, really I am. I never thought I was your type. I always thought you preferred your men taller, darker and less handsome."

Brienne shoved Jaime roughly into the room while Loras laughed at their prisoner's bravado.

"In your dreams Jaime." Loras stood up and walked over to the older man. "Forgive me for not saluting you Sir, but I feel it would be rude when you're unable to return the courtesy."

Brienne hadn't realised the two of them knew each other. By the sound of it they had served together in the Forces.

"Apology accepted Captain." Jaime smirked "but I would obviously prefer that you had your wench un-cuff me before I drop this bottle of wine. It wasn't expensive, but I have paid for it and I do hate unnecessary waste."

Loras nodded to the bottle and glasses. Brienne took them from Jaime's hand. Did she imagine it or did he try to stroke her fingers as she took them from him?

Brienne pushed Jaime down onto a wooden chair, placed in the centre of the room. He was facing a mirror that took up almost the full wall. She cuffed both his ankles to the chair as Loras watched.

"I hope you'll forgive me for not staying Jaime, but my other guests are due to arrive at any moment and I'm needed elsewhere. I'm sure Brienne will take excellent care of you." Loras patted Jaime on the shoulder as he passed. "I'm sure you'll enjoy the show." He added sarcastically.

When the two of them were alone, Jaime asked "Where are we going to watch this show that Captain Tyrell so expects me to enjoy?"

Brienne nodded to the mirror. As the room on the other side was identical to this one, it wasn't immediately apparent you weren't looking at a refection. Once you realised you couldn't see your own refection, it became obvious you were looking into another room.

"Ahh. This should be interesting. Why don't you open that second bottle of wine and we can really enjoy the show?"

"I'm working." Brienne growled.

"It didn't stop you earlier did it? At least give me a drink then if you're going to be so boring."

Brienne reluctantly poured and handed him a glass. She couldn't think of any reason not to. He held it awkwardly in his cuffed hands but still managed to drink it.

Movement in the 'mirror' caught their attention. Gendry had walked into the other room carrying a bag and looking very formal in all black clothes. Renly and Loras hadn't told her all the details of the plan – she suspected they were still ironing out some of the details themselves. They had however told her it was vital they obtained photographs of Cersei in a compromising position.

There was a video camera on a tripod in their room, pointing into the adjoining room and another camera fixed to the ceiling, pointing at Jaime's face. Loras was obviously filming everything.

Brienne had only met Gendry a handful of times and she wouldn't have said she knew him very well, but even so, she could tell he was tense. She liked the way he ran his hands through his hair as he looked out of the window. It reminded her of Renly. As if reading her thoughts Jaime commented,

"My God, he's like Renly isn't he?"

Brienne wasn't sure if he expected an answer. She didn't give him one. She didn't need Jaime Lannister to tell her how closely Renly and his nephew resembled each other. She had been amazed the first time she saw Gendry. She hadn't thought anyone could have been more attractive than Renly, but she had been wrong.

"Actually, he's even more like Robert. You didn't know Robert before he let himself go did you?"

This time Brienne answered – 'No' through tight lips.

"I knew him when we were both young and thought we were invincible. I have to say, it was quite a shock when he died. He's the first one of my peers to die, although I can't say we were close."

"Really?" Brienne asked sarcastically. "You were fucking the same woman for years and you weren't close? Any closer and you'd have been Siamese twins."

She had obviously touched a raw nerve as Jaime glared at her, green eyes flashing angrily. It was the first time she had seen him lose his composure, but he recovered it quickly.

"The point I was trying to make is that the young Lord Baratheon actually looks more like his father – at least the way Robert used to be before the drinking, the drugs and the whoring took its toll." Jaime sighed wistfully as he thought about the past. "Robert used to be magnificent too. That's the best way to describe Gendry don't you think – _magnificent_?"

It was Brienne's turn to loose her cool. "If I wanted a running commentary I'd ask for one. Shut up!"

But Gendry _was_ magnificent. He might not have the character traits that endeared Renly to her, but he was younger, even more handsome and he wasn't gay. She could pretend to herself that she would never have Renly _simply because he was gay_. It made it easier to cope with the fact that he would never have looked twice at her if he wasn't. However, she couldn't use the same excuse with Gendry. In her heart of hearts she knew she could never have Gendry because, on a scale of 1 to 10, he was a 10+ whereas she was…well, she didn't like to think where she was.

"Ahhh. Touchy subject I see. I wonder how our young Lord Baratheon is going to entertain us this afternoon?"

"Just watch. It's not a one man show." She snapped.

They didn't have long to wait until there was a knock at the door and Cersei arrived. Brienne had never seen her up close before, but now she was only a few feet away through the mirror. From a distance she had seemed impossibly glamorous, haughty and beautiful. Up close she could see that her undoubted beauty was fading. She was wearing too much make up and her hair was obviously dyed a brassy blonde rather than being naturally golden like Jaime's.

As Gendry proposed a toast 'to us', Jaime laughed, held his glass up to Brienne and echoed 'to us'.

Brienne had taken her eyes off the other room to watch Jaime propose his toast and was shocked when she looked back to see that Cersei had unfastened her coat and had only black, tarty underwear on underneath. Not only that, she was fondling Gendry through his trousers. The woman wasn't wasting any time in getting down to it.

Brienne really was shocked. She hadn't thought she was a prude, but she was shocked that Cersei and Gendry were engaging in such intimate physical contact so quickly and even more shocked that Jaime seemed to approve, not just approve, be actively looking forward to what seemed likely to happen next.

"That's my girl!" he cheered. "I think I'm going to enjoy this! Are you sure you won't join me with a glass of wine Brienne?"

Brienne shook her head, unable to tear her eyes away from the action in the other room. Cersei was standing in her black underwear undressing Gendry and he looked like he was enjoying it. Brienne was envious of the older woman's hourglass figure and the fact that she had Gendry in her thrall. The bitch had three children and fifteen years on Brienne, but still she had more curves than Brienne would ever have.

She was so engrossed in watching Cersei and the way she took control, making Gendry kiss her by pulling on his tie, Brienne almost missed the reference to 'Nazis'. She couldn't understand why that word would be mentioned and then she realised that wasn't a suit Gendry was wearing. With the knee length boots, it was obviously a military uniform – how had she managed to miss that before?

When shortly after Cersei turned towards the mirror wearing a black Nazi jacket, complete with swastika armband, Brienne was beyond shocked. Cersei had destroyed her carefully crafted public image in one fell swoop. She was a high profile ambassador for at least two charities for disabled children that Brienne knew of. Cersei was regularly pictured in the newspapers with children in wheelchairs, children who would never even have lived without the aid of modern medicine and the devotion of their carers; children who would have been exterminated by the Nazis. Brienne could only imagine the havoc if those charities saw pictures of this. _What on earth was Cersei thinking?_

When Cersei faced the mirror and gave a Nazi salute, wearing the jacket, looking like the cat that had got the cream, shouting 'Hail Hitler' Brienne thought she might be sick. This was no joke, no fancy dress party. This was something Cersei Lannister embraced and believed. When Renly had said compromising pictures, Brienne had no idea he'd meant _this_.

Jaime looked embarrassed, pressing his wine glass against his lips. He was strangely silent for someone who had so much to say a few minutes ago.

When Gendry asked - '_Why the Nazi's?' _ Brienne was wondering exactly the same thing. When Cersei started boasting about how she and Gendry were 'genetically superior' Brienne began to get angry. Very angry indeed. How could Cersei claim to be better than the rest because of an accident of birth? She was _superior_? Really? Brienne knew she could take the bitch down any place, anytime.

'_Fuck you Cersei Lannister' _she spat under her breath.

Jaime heard.

"I've a feeling that's exactly what's about to happen' he smirked.

But Gendry, God bless him, wasn't about to let those remarks about Cersei's superiority go unchallenged.

When Gendry said "_It must really fuck up your supremacist theories to have a dwarf brother"_ Brienne would have hugging and kissing Gendry on the spot if she could and not because he was gorgeous, but because he was brave and right and he wasn't going to let the bitch away with that. Yes! Take that Cersei! What about your brother you Nazi bitch?!

"_The world would be a better place if it had no dwarfs!_" Cersei ranted.

"_Your own brother Cersei? You'd condemn your own brother because of some twisted ideology?" _Gendry pressed his point home.

"_I have another brother who is worth ten of the dwarf. That imp would be no loss to me or to the world_."

Jamie was obviously the other brother Cersei was referring to. Brienne wondered what must be going through his mind listening to this shit. His twin sister wished their brother dead? She turned to look at Jaime and was horrified to see he was as white as a sheet.

"Are you ok?" she asked, rushing to his side, genuinely concerned.

"Pour me another drink please Brienne. I really need another drink." he mumbled.

She did as he asked, wishing she had something stronger than wine. Before she handed it to him she asked if he would like his hands freed. He nodded slowly. Slumped in his chair he looked as if he was a threat to no one and, in any event, his feet were shackled so he wasn't going anywhere. She unlocked the handcuffs. He didn't even bother rubbing the red indents the cuffs had left in his writs before he took a large gulp of the wine.

"Will you still not join me?" he muttered.

She poured herself a glass. She felt she needed one too after listening to Cersei's hate filled rant.

Hearing Gendry bark "Suck it" drew both of their eyes back to the mirror. Cersei had dropped to her knees and had Gendry's cock in her mouth. She was lavishing attention on it, all the way up and down and around. She was obviously an old pro at giving head.

"I don't want to see anymore." Jamie sighed wearily.

"I can't turn it off." Brienne replied, but she understood. It wasn't the sex. He'd said at the outset he was anticipating that, it was Cersei he didn't want to see now. She'd revealed too much of herself – something deep and dark that even her twin hadn't been aware of.

"So talk to me instead. Take my mind off it. I don't want to have to think about _her."_

It was a surreal conversation. Against a background of groans and wet, sex noises Jaime asked Brienne if she had any brothers or sisters and when she said she didn't, they talked about how having siblings or not can influence the kind of person you become. When he spoke of his brother Tyrion it was with love and respect.

Unfortunately their conversation was brought to a standstill on a few occasions by particularly loud or dramatic events in the next room.

Neither of them could miss Gendry's groaning 'Arya' with as much feeling as could be put into one name. They both inadvertently looked up to see Gendry milking his cock over Cersei's face as she tried to squirm away. If it had been happening to anyone else, Brienne would have been appalled by the casual brutality of the act, but this was Cersei, who idolised Nazism and she deserved every fucking thing she got.

When Gendry brought out the vibrator and Cersei was crowing that she was a 'cock sucking whore', demanding that Gendry fuck her with the vibrator up her arse 'till it hurt' Brienne had heard enough. One look at Jaime told her he had too.

"Come on. Let's get out of here." She said as she unfastened the shackles around his feet. "I brought you here, so it's only fair that I take you back. Where do you want to go?"

"You'll need to help me up first I think" he groaned as she finished with the shackles. "My legs have gone to sleep." They both knew it wasn't only the shackles that had made his legs shaky.

She gave him her arm, in a bizarre role reversal from earlier in the afternoon.

"Have you anything important you have to do now?" He asked as she held the door open for him.

"No, why?"

"I feel like getting drunk. Very, very drunk. Care to join me Brienne?"

"I think I would like that Jaime, but as long as you let me pay."

"Brienne, I'm as rich as a fucking Lannister and I will not let you pay."

She didn't have the heart to argue with him so, leaving Cersei joyously screaming obscenities in the background as she came, impaled on the end of a black vibrator, the two of them went out to get drunk on his Lannister gold card; very, very drunk, just as he had promised.

-o-

Having grown up without a father figure, Edric found it strange, and rather brilliant, to suddenly have four. He had decided Stannis didn't count as a father figure as his uncle had never been remotely interested in him until the DNA test had come back positive. Even then, Stannis had only wanted to talk endlessly about Edric's new responsibilities as a Baratheon.

Uncle Renly on the other hand was like his own personal fairy Godmother – making all his wishes come true. It seemed as if he only had to ask and Renly made it happen. A few weeks ago, studying at The London School of Economics, having an internship (which was PAID!) with a guaranteed job at the end and a flat in the centre of London was so far fetched; he wouldn't even have dared dream it could ever happen.

Renly was the consummate company man. He lived and breathed Baratheon Enterprises and had an encyclopaedic knowledge of _everything_ that went on in the company. Edric had no idea how his uncle retained it all but was eager to learn. Edric was savvy enough to realise that Renly was grooming him for a position in the company. All this money and time wouldn't be invested in him if Renly didn't have plans for him and Edric was more than happy to take what was being offered.

Uncle Loras was so cool he was ice cold. He was scary and intimidating in an '_Oh My God I want to be just like you but please don't hurt me_' sort of way. Gendry said Loras had been in the SAS and Edric was dying to ask him all about it, but hadn't managed to pluck up the courage yet. He wasn't sure he ever would. Loras was the kind of guy that _nobody_ would ever mess with. Ever. End of. All the guys wanted to be him and all the ladies wanted to shag him – as if that was going to happen.

Edric couldn't get his head around the fact that Loras and Renly were like, married or something. Loras in particular seemed so macho. Although Edric had some friends he _knew _were gay, they weren't out. Everyone knew, but it was kind of hard to talk about when you'd known the guys since pre-school and they'd joined in with the same stupid 'which girl do you fancy' stuff for years. It was kind of hard to do a 360 degree turn and finally admit you fancied the guys. So none of them had - yet. He supposed after this summer, when they all went off to different Universities, they would get the freedom to become who they wanted to be, instead of the kids they were _expected_ to be by the family, teachers and friends they'd left behind. Edric knew that he certainly wasn't going to be the same whenever he returned home.

Gendry had already made him get his hair cut, for a start. He now had a trendy, brushed-onto-his-face Harry Styles thing going on, that covered his ears. Gendry had hinted to the girl in the hairdressers that artfully hiding Edric's ears was essential. Edric hadn't thought his ears were _that _bad, but according to Gendry they were.

Edric had never been to a fancy hairdressers before – either his mum had cut his hair or he'd gone to the local barber. He couldn't believe you had to make an appointment to get your hair cut. _And the price!_ _Over a hundred pounds for a haircut when his mum could do it for nothing! _

After what had seemed like hours with a 'stylist' fussing over him, it was done. Then Gendry had made the poor girl show him how to use the hair 'product' and style it himself. '_Made_' was probably overstating it. Gendry had turned on the charm and only had to _suggest_ to the stylist it would help and the silly girl had practically wet herself trying to please him. Edric had to admit it would be great to have that effect on women. He'd heard that his father had _it_, Gendry _certainly _had it and he had no doubt Renly would have _it_ if he wanted but still, Edric couldn't believe _he_ could ever have it. He had only ever found one girl he could talk to without getting insanely bored.

Edric hadn't had a brother before, so it was hard for him to know if what he had going on with Gendry was a typical big brother thing. He knew Gendry was trying hard, but the truth was, they didn't have much in common. Edric had spent his teenage years locked in his bedroom playing X box games, building computers and studying, whereas Gendry seemed to have spent his riding around on motorbikes, stripping car engines and chasing girls. At 26 Gendry's interests didn't seem to have changed much, except there was only one girl now instead of loads.

Edric was dying to meet this 'Arya' that Gendry was so obviously obsessed with. You'd have to be blind not to notice that women and girls of all shapes, sizes and ages simply melted whenever he was around, but either Gendry didn't notice or he wasn't interested as he seemed oblivious to the trail of swooning women he left in his wake. Edric wanted to see what Arya had that was so special.

And there was Jon. Jon wasn't like the other three. Edric thought what you saw was pretty much what you got with Renly, Loras and Gendry, but Jon was different. He was a dude and, because he had three brothers, he was the easiest to talk too in some ways. But he was also guarded. There was something else going on with Jon and Edric wasn't sure what it was. He'd tried to ask Gendry, who had skirted around the issue and mumbled something about Jon's family, but Gendry wouldn't explain it properly, so Edric didn't know if Jon was unhappy or in trouble or what. Judging by the way he attacked his Krav Maga and gym workouts, the dude had some serious anger issues to work through.

That was a common thread that linked them all together. They all worked out. A lot. Sometimes together; when they all did that Tai Chi stuff or yoga (seeing Gendry trying to contort himself into some of the yoga positions was unintentionally hilarious, but no-on else seemed to find it funny and, to give him credit, Gendry persevered). Anytime Edric walked past the gym on his way to the kitchens for a snack, one or other of them would be in there, sweating. Storm's End also had a six mile, costal jogging track along the top of the cliffs. As the Baratheon security team used that for training too, it was invariable dotted with dayglow, Lycra clad running figures.

Gendry had tried to get Edric to join him in the gym or on a run, but it wasn't something Edric had ever been interested in before and, to be honest, he was a bit intimidated now as Gendry was really ripped – like so ripped he was _shredded. _However, something had happened that had made him change his mind. Something, or _someone_ to be more precise, who was smart, beautiful, blonde and so hot Edric couldn't believe she wanted to hang out with him; Myrcella Lannister. Edric was getting the keys to his new flat (or 'shag pad' as Gendry annoyingly kept calling it) and he wanted to take things with Myrcella to the next level – or 'shag her brains out' as Gendry so unsubtly put it.

Edric wanted to invite Myrcella to his flat and cook her dinner as a 'thank you' for all the lunches. If she wanted more, then he was willing - desperate really, as all he'd had for two weeks was chaste hand holding and _frustrated_ didn't begin to cover it. He worried he'd left it too late as, if he'd kissed her after their first lunch date, then it would have been clear he fancied her. God knows he did and he wanted to kiss her, but he was too shy and it seemed she was too. Now, two weeks later, he'd built that first kiss up into something huge, something insurmountable and he was worried she might think he wasn't interested in her _like that_, when he really, really was.

In the end, Myrcella saved him from himself.

It was already Wednesday and he was getting the keys on Friday. Edric had meant to ask her on Monday and then on Tuesday, but he couldn't screw up the courage. He had only nibbled on her delicious sandwiches and had taken the cupcakes, but not eaten them. He'd told Myrcella he would save them for later, but had given them to one of the other interns as soon as he got back to the office. Gendry would be proud of him; he had been starving for the past week.

As he walked Myrcella back from _their_ bench to the office she asked

"What's wrong Edric?"

"Umm. Nothing. Why do you ask?" He couldn't meet her eyes, for fear she'd see straight through him.

"You've hardly eating anything for the past three days and you used to love my cupcakes" she said miserably. "Have you gone off me?"

He stopped walking and stared at her - shocked. Her bottom lip was trembling and she looked as if she was about to cry. Oh Shit! How could he have messed this up already?

"No! Never! I love your cupcakes!" Her face lit up. "…and I love you!" he blurted out.

Seeing the shocked look on her face he rapidly tried to backtrack. _You idiot! You don't even mean that! How can you love her already? You haven't even kissed her yet! _

"Yeah… well… you know what I mean…I love _them _so much, I love _you_ for making them for me. I didn't mean _I love you_ or anything like that…" he stammered.

Her face fell again and he felt like even more of a shit. What would Gendry do? He'd say - _kiss her you idiot!_

So Edric lunged at Myrcella just as she backed away, making him stumble into her, grab her arms and land his kiss on her cheek instead of her lips. What a cock up.

She looked bewildered. He felt like a total idiot.

"Sorry" he mumbled, letting her go and stepping away. He tried to stay calm, but he was shaking and all he wanted to do was to turn and run and hide.

She just looked at him, wide eyed.

He tied to explain,

"I haven't been eating much 'cos I wanted to ask you to come over to my new flat when I get the keys on Friday and cook you dinner to thank you for all the wonderful lunches and I do love your cupcakes, but Gendry calls me '_fatty'_ and I don't want you to have a fat boyfriend 'cos you're beautiful and I want to…." He trailed off.

What did he want to do? Be her boyfriend, kiss her, cuddle her, shag her…_all of the above?!_ But he wasn't getting any reaction. She was still just standing there, looking at him like he was an idiot, which, of course he was. Big time.

"Ok then. I'll meet you here at 5 on Friday."

Did she just agree?

"Really?" he gasped.

"Yes, really. I thought you'd never ask. I'll tell my mum I'm having a sleepover at a friend's so I can stay all night…" It was his turn to look shocked. "…if you want me too that is."

"Of course I do! Yeah! Great! Brilliant!… (pause)…_Really?_" he couldn't quite believe it. She wasn't kidding was she?

"For such a smart guy, you can be really stupid sometimes Edric." She pouted, folding her arms. "I'd almost given up. I've been bringing you a fantastic lunch for over two weeks and you haven't even tried to kiss me yet!"

"I just did!" he said, hurt and suddenly feeling defensive.

"Call that a kiss? You'll need to do better than that on Friday or I might have to find another cute geek to bake cupcakes for!" and with that she flounced off, flicking her hair and wiggling her bum.

He'd never seen her walk away before because she'd always been the one standing waiving to him as he disappeared into Baratheon House. He'd never realised she had such a cute bum. Shit! He needed to go and see Gendry urgently. He needed help. He needed his babe magnet big brother's advice.

-o-

"It's just a kiss Edric! Quit stressing and it'll be fine."

"But what if she doesn't like me as much as like her?"

"Well if she didn't like you she wouldn't have baked you fucking cupcakes every day for a fortnight – would she _fatty_?" Gendry poked a finger into his stomach and Edric was ashamed to see it disappear up to the first knuckle. And that was after he'd tried to hold it in.

"Look it's just a kiss, keep it relaxed, keep it fun and she'll let you know if she wants more."

"How?"

Gendry groaned. "Seriously? You don't think you'll be able to tell if she wants more?"

Edric shrugged, embarrassed. He'd kissed girls before – _of course_ – but the truth was he'd never found one he'd been very interested before.

"Let's be honest here Edric - are you still a virgin?"

"Umm, well…"

"Ok. I get it. I hope she's not, as two virgins trying to get it on…." He gave a low whistle and rolled his eyes.

"So was your first time rubbish?"

"Whaaat? Nah! Not mine Bro! She was a black haired barmaid who worked with my mum one summer. She was at least twenty six" he chuckled. "I thought she was ancient at the time and she was probably shagging half of Winterfell too, but she set her sights on me and…well, I was powerless to resist her lusty charms." He laughed heartily and grinned at the memory. "I wish I could say it was love and I really respected her and all that, but she wasn't very bright and she fucked my brains out for a couple of weeks before she left town with some truck driver and that was that. But she taught me plenty before she left me in the dust."

"Like what?"

"Ha! It'll be more fun if you find that out yourself, but I'll give you a few hints - like I said, keep it fun, keep it playful and _tease her_. Women can't resist when you tease them."

"So how do I do that?"

"Well, you kiss her and it's great, but you don't keep going and going. You stop. Act like nothing happened; go back to having fun and she'll wonder what the hell's going on. Why did you stop kissing her? Does that mean you didn't like it? So you've got to keep up the charm, make it clear you still like her, so she wants more. But remember you're teasing her and after a while, you kiss her again and again you stop. You still with me Bro?"

Edric nodded eagerly.

"Always remember it's supposed to be fun for both of you and the trick is to make it clear you're still really into her - just don't kiss her again too soon. By this time, if it's all going well and believe me – _this works_ – she'll be ready for more. You're making her want the next step before you go there. So, after kissing her like that a few times, she'll be desperate for you to touch her. Now, don't over do it – no groping! Just play with her hair. She's got great hair hasn't she?"

Edric nodded enthusiastically. He'd wanted to run that golden hair through his fingers since the first day he saw her.

"So stroke her hair and look into her eyes and tell her how beautiful she is, and maybe run your finger along her collar bone once you've reached the end of her hair, but don't touch her anywhere else. Leave her wanting more. Before you know it she'll be leaning into you and she'll be the one touching _you_. Just take it really slow and gentle and let her set the pace. Be patient, never go further than she's really comfortable with and always be a gentleman. When the time comes, make sure she comes first and she'll keep coming back for more."

Gendry leaned back with a smug look on his face and folded his hands behind his head. Lesson over. Big brother's babe wisdom imparted.

"And how do I make sure she comes first?"

"Aww, for fuck's sake Edric! Do you not read any of those bloody men's magazines?"

Edric shook his head. He never seemed to get past 'Computing Monthly'. All those ripped guys on the covers of the trendy magazines demanding you get a six pack in four weeks just depressed the hell out of him and made him want another donut.

"Your tongue Bro! Works almost every time and you can bloody well go and google that!" Gendry stood up. "Now, you better keep hitting the gym and for God's sake stop eating those fucking cupcakes or you'll be the one wanting to put the lights off…_fatty_."

How did Gendry know he wanted to put the lights off?

"Where are you going?" Edric asked as Gendry picked up his suit jacket and made for the door.

"Telling you about the basics has reminded me I've been neglecting them myself. I'm going to see Arya. Right now."

As Gendry held the door open for Edric, a surprised Val looked up from her screen.

"Where do you think you're off to Lord Baratheon? You've got a meeting with Renly and the International Accounts team this afternoon."

"They'll just have to cope without me" Gendry smirked. "I may not be back."

"What? Ever?" Val gasped.

"No, of course not!" he exclaimed, but muttered '_I wish_' under his breath, so only Edric could hear.

"Just this afternoon."

Val tutted; looking disapprovingly at the two of them over the top of her glasses.

"I hope this isn't your idea Edric!" she scolded. "Renly doesn't take kindly to non attendance at his meetings."

Gendry glowered at her.

"It's nothing to do with Edric. He's going back to work like a good little Baratheon worker bee, aren't you Bro?"

Edric nodded as hard as he could. Val scared him. She looked exactly like he imagined a Valkyrie would look; haughty, blonde and buxom; very, very buxom and he didn't want to be the victim of her wrath. She didn't intimidate Gendry of course.

"How many times have we had this conversation Val? Who's the head of Baratheon Enterprises? Is it me or is it Renly?"

"It's you, Sir!" Val sighed sarcastically, rolling her eyes at Edric.

"Correct! And the Big Boss is going out for the afternoon. Call me a car and have it waiting outside – and not one of the Range Rovers. Something fancier. Oh and get the address of that shop Arya works in from Loras and send it to the car's sat nav…and some of the pink champagne Arya likes. You know the one I can never remember the name of?"

"Yes Boss" she groaned, already dialling the numbers, making the arrangements.

They walked to the lift and Gendry impatiently jabbed at the button. Edric was working in Legal – many floors below Gendry's penthouse office. Eventually the lift doors slid open to reveal Margaery Tyrell touching up her lipstick in the mirrored walls.

"Hello Boys!" she purred suggestively, but her eyes were only on Gendry as she strolled purposefully out of the lift.

"Oh Hi Margaery. See you later." Gendry made to walk past her into the waiting lift, but Margaery stopped him by pressing her elegant hand on his chest.

"I'm here to see _you_ LB so you're not going anywhere yet."

Gendry sighed as the lift doors shut behind her and the lift disappeared again. Margaery picked a piece of imaginary fluff off his lapel.

"I checked your diary. You have a free hour before the next meeting and I thought we could have a coffee and a chat" she whispered breathlessly, looking up at him coyly through her fluttering eyelashes. Edric had no idea how she could make 'coffee and a chat' sound so laden with sexual innuendo.

Gendry groaned. "No can do Marg. I'm in a hurry." He removed her hand from his lapel and reached behind her, jabbed the lift button again. "Let's catch up tonight, after dinner and we can chat about whatever you want then, ok?"

It was obviously far from ok with Margaery, but the scowl on her face was fleeting and quickly replaced by that flirty, smiling mask she wore.

"Ok" she purred. "See you tonight then."

When the lift arrived again, Gendry was in it before the doors had fully opened, jabbing the necessary buttons as quickly as possible. As the doors closed behind them, Edric caught a glimpse of Val pulling a face and sticking her tongue out at Margaery as Margaery blew Gendry a kiss through the closing doors.

"What the hell is she all about and what the hell is 'LB'?" Edric asked as soon as the doors were shut and they were on the move.

"Lord Baratheon – it's what she calls me. You know Margaery – she's just Loras' annoying little sister. I'm only humouring her."

"Are you f'ing kidding me Gendry? You know, for a guy who thinks he's an expert on women you can be really blind sometimes!"

Gendry looked at him blankly.

"Its obvious she wants to be 'LB' too!"

"Eh?"

"_Lady _Baratheon?!" Edric pointed out sarcastically. How could he not get that? God, Gendry could be so slow sometimes.

"How many times has she been to see you at the office?" Edric demanded.

"Too many - but she seems to have fuck all else to do all day."

"Then why is she still staying at Storm's End? I thought she was supposed to leave with her rude old granny after the funeral."

"Yeah, she was. I supposed Loras asked her to stay."

Edric rolled his eyes skyward in disbelief. "You know how lame that sounds? She pisses Loras off more than anyone else. And how many times has she asked you to take her out on your motorbike or take her for dinner?"

"Dozens." Gendry sighed, finally seeing the pattern.

"She's so after you it's not funny, but I don't understand how you can't see it."

"I suppose I wasn't looking for it." Gendry said glumly, running his hand through his hair.

"Yeah, I know - your mind is on Arya." Edric groaned sarcastically. "Now it's my turn to give you some advice - you better get rid of Margaery and go get your Arya as soon as possible. Girls don't like it when you mess around with other girls. Even I know that."

The lift doors opened at the tenth floor and Edric got out at the Legal department.

"Thanks Bro. I've been an idiot." Gendry muttered as the lift doors closed between them. Edric could only agree.

-o-

Having first stopped at a florist to buy two dozen red roses, then a cashline machine to take out £1,000, the Bentley drew up outside the Gallery of Black and White.

With a bunch of roses tucked under each arm, Gendry told the driver to wait and strolled in. It was posh, quiet, empty and cold. The air conditioning made everything smell fainter, more metallic somehow, but as he took a deep breath he _knew_ she was here. Someone else was here too, but all he was interested in was Arya's unmistakable, indescribably wonderful scent. It was the best smell in the world. Well, if he was being honest, aroused Arya was the best smell in the world. When he remembered how she had smelled in that doorway with her panties around her ankles and his face buried in her cunt, he felt his cock spring magically into life. He quickly tried to think of Russian tractors. He couldn't risk losing it now but surely to God, if he could hold it together while he endured a blow job from that Nazi bitch Cersei, he should have no problem now around Arya. Cersei had tested his self control to the limit. If he could put up with her for an hour, he was confident he could cope with _anything _without changing.

This gallery didn't seem the kind of place where the sales assistant – presumably Arya – would hassle you. He placed the two, beautifully wrapped bouquets down on the counter and went for a browse.

He didn't really 'get' art. Last week a huge Werewolf painting had appeared in the living room of his suite at Storm's End. When questioned, Penrose had simply shrugged, said Renly had acquired it and 'had to put it somewhere'. Penrose wouldn't take it away, so Gendry had turned it to face the wall. It gave him the creeps – the eight phases of the moon on the painting just reminded him of the impending full one. Already he was beginning to feel it calling him. He could ignore it – for the time being, but in a few more days he knew its pull would be too strong to resist and then he'd change. Loras said the first time was the worst. Fucking great, but now wasn't the time to worry about that.

He strolled past the paintings, giving each one only a cursory glance. There was only one that caught his eye. A soldier was reclining languidly on a chair. Not a solider – an angel, judging by the halo around his head. The eyes looked so familiar. He was still trying to work out who he was reminded of when he smelled Arya's approach before he heard her. Her unique fragrance was wafting to him on the breeze created by the air conditioning.

He looked up just as she said 'How may I help you Sir?' She was at the top of a modern, suspended staircase. Her mouth fell open when she realised it was him and she hurried down the rest of the steps. He couldn't help breaking into a huge grin as he watched her come to him. She looked like a sexy secretary from a porn movie. Her knee length skirt was so tight she had to wiggle as she walked in her black pointed high heels. Her long hair was scraped back into a ponytail. All she needed was a pair of horn rimmed glasses and she'd tick another one of his fantasy boxes. God, he'd missed her.

"What are you doing here?!" she hissed when she was standing in front of him.

"I'm pleased to see you too." He smirked and he certainly was. So was his cock. He pointedly looked down at his crotch. Her eyes followed his gaze and he enjoyed seeing her suddenly become flustered when she noticed the growing bulge in his trousers.

"For goodness sake Gendry. I'm working! Put that away!" she demanded in a loud whisper.

"Well, I was working too, but I decided you were more important. So here I am and I brought you something." He indicated the two tissue wrapped bouquets on the counter.

"Oh, the roses are beautiful, but don't you think a dozen would have been enough?" she asked as she walked over to get a better look at them.

He walked up behind her and gently, but deliberately, bumped his burgeoning erection into her hip.

"I wanted to make sure you got the message."

"Oh, I get the message alright." She giggled; reaching back to gently squeezed his cock.

He had a sudden flashback to the hotel room and Cersei Lannister squeezing his cock. Jesus Christ! Where did that come from? He shook his head quickly to try and rid himself of the memory.

"I'm looking forward to the charity ball, but I'm working right now dear." She continued smoothly.

"Come on." He pleaded. After that horrendous flashback, he wanted to be alone with Arya more than ever. He was sure being with her would put bloody Cersei right out of his mind.

"I've got a car and a driver waiting outside. We can go anywhere we want. _And there's a privacy screen._" he whispered huskily as he swept her silky pony tail to the side before peppering tiny hot kisses up the side of her neck up to her ear. She sighed deeply and relaxed against him. No more images of Cersei fucking Lannister, thank God, but that had put him on edge. He needed time alone with Arya. "I've got that pink champagne you like. Come on babe, let's go."

"Is everything alright?" a heavily accented voice asked from the top of the stairs.

Arya immediately pulled away, leaving Gendry with a very obvious, very exposed tent in his trousers. He cursed under his breath and held his suit jacket closed. She looked up at Jaqen, now making his way quickly down the stairs.

"Yes, of course. My boyfriend popped in to see me, but he was just leaving. Gendry this is my boss Jaqen H'ghar."

Gendry deliberately blanked the man, slipping his arm around Arya's waist and none too gently pulling her into his side - marking his territory. He didn't like the look, or the smell of this Jaqen character. Too smooth, too sophisticated and he could smell Arya on him. That was what he _really_ didn't like.

"I'm her fiancé actually and _we_ were just leaving." He growled at Jaqen. If Jaqen was surprised he didn't show it, but Arya was fuming.

"_We were not!_" she hissed, trying to wriggle out of his arm as it encircled her waist. Gendry had her trapped against him and had no intention of letting her go.

"Let go of me Gendry!" she said through clenched teeth, trying to push his arm away. Her attempts to free herself were useless. Jaqen took a few steps nearer.

"You've got a short memory Gendry Waters! Remember the fuss you made when I wanted you to leave Tobho Mott's garage and spend the afternoon with me?"

He'd forgotten about that. He let her go suddenly and she staggered back. To his extreme annoyance, Jaqen was ready with a supportive arm to steady her. The two of them glared at him.

"Mr Waters, this girl does not want to go and this man will not let you take her."

Jaqen placed himself between Gendry and Arya.

Gendry snorted ruefully. He'd like to see that European fop try and stop him doing _anything_ he wanted to do.

"It's Lord Baratheon to you." he sneered. Jaqen bristled, but didn't reply; only nodding slightly to acknowledge that he'd heard Gendry and understood the veiled threat.

Gendry turned to Arya. "Look, I'm sorry, I know I should have phoned first, but something happened that made me want to see you."

"Jaqen, can you give us a moment please?" Arya asked, smiling sweetly at her boss. Jaqen reluctantly withdrew behind the counter, but kept his eyes on Gendry.

"Ahhh, so is this what the roses are about - your guilty conscience?! I wondered why you suddenly brought me flowers after all this time."

Shit! Guilty conscience? She couldn't possibly know about Cersei, but she had always been able to read him like a book. Did he have a guilty conscience? Ha hadn't thought so. He thought he had wanted to see her because of his conversation with Edric, but subconsciously perhaps he _was _feeling guilty. That might explain the unwanted flashback.

"No, not at all" he drawled, trying to act naturally, aware she was eyeing him suspiciously. "I can't wait until the ball, that's all. It's been too long already." He groaned, reaching for her, but she stepped back, away from his hand. He didn't push it.

"I know – but it was you who wouldn't stay the night after the wine bar, remember?" she hissed back, one eye on Jaqen, who was watching them with serious, unwavering eyes.

"Ok, I realise you're working. It was thoughtless of me. What about dinner tonight? Anywhere you like. How about one of those real fancy London restaurants? We can get all dressed up."

"I can't." she muttered, turning scarlet. "I've made other plans." Her eyes darted to Jaqen. Gendry wasn't a slouch at reading her either and he knew instantly she was brushing him off because she'd made plans with that red haired arsehole.

"Well, break them." He demanded, glowering at Jaqen. Arya turned even redder.

"No." she said quietly, but firmly. "Jaqen got us tickets to the opening night of the new Leichtensein retrospective at The Tate and I said I would go. I'm not going to break my word."

"But what about me?! We're engaged remember?"

"How could I ever forget with a ring like this!" she held up her left hand and the big diamond sparkled wildly under the gallery lights. He was relieved to see she was wearing her ring again. That should send a clear message to Jaqen Ha Ha or whatever the fuck his name was.

"Ok, tomorrow then."

"I'm busy."

"Whaaat?"

"Look Gendry, you can't just put me down and pick me up when you feel like it. I've got a life and friends and you said you couldn't see me again until Renly's ball, so I made other plans."

He felt like he was going to burst with frustration and jealously.

"…I'll be at the ball like I said I would and I'll stay like I said I would! But you need to stop taking me for granted!" she scolded, jabbing her finger into his chest to emphasise her point. "..And don't you look at me like that. This is _all your fault_ – remember!"

Yeah, it was his fault his fucking father was a fucking Werewolf and bit him on his deathbed. That couldn't possibly be anyone else's fault could it?

Swallowing his anger and resentment, he pulled the wad of notes from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. "Here, I brought you this. Robb said you needed money… You should have told me Arya" he added softly, offering her the thick bundle.

"I don't want your money!" she yelped, taking another step backwards as if she expected to catch something nasty from the money. For fuck's sake he was only trying to help her.

"I've got a job now and I'm doing fine on my own." She told him proudly, twisting the knife even further by smiling over at Jaqen, who immediately reacted with delight, looking too fucking smug for his own good.

Gendry stuffed the wad of notes back into his pocket. Fine. It seemed as if she didn't want him for anything now.

"I'll see you at the ball then." He snapped.

"Of course." she muttered.

He stomped out, drawing Jaqen Ha Ha a last, dirty look as he left, slamming the door so hard behind him that the whole gallery shook.

"Where to Sir?" the chauffer asked.

"Storm's End" he barked. He might as well get drunk there as anywhere else. Or maybe he'd go for a ride on his bike instead and if bloody Margaery wanted to come, then perhaps he'd let her.

-o-

**I'm long overdue to thank everyone for their reviews. **

**I used to try and thank everyone personally, but I'm finding that, having committed to writing a chapter every week I really don't have time for anything else. It doesn't mean I appreciate the reviews any less. On the contrary, as I'm having to work harder because every chapter is longer, darker and more demanding to write, I appreciate the reviews even more. I do occasionally take a different turn because of your comments and, as I'm constantly striving to do better, I love receiving your input – both positive and negative. Thanks most of all for caring enough to review. **

**L3J **


	25. Chapter 25 - Defend & Protect

**Chapter 25**

**Defend & Protect**

As soon as he arrived back at Storm's End, Gendry went off to find Jon. He knew exactly where Jon would be - in the gym. He wasn't surprised to find Loras there too, both of them practising some of the more demanding Krav Maga moves. It was no longer a case of Loras always having the upper hand, but Gendry did wonder if the only reason Loras took a fall was so he could pull Jon down on top of him. Loras never seemed to land on the mat on his own for some strange reason.

What he didn't expect was bloody Margaery to shout "_Well hello there LB!_" as soon as he walked into the gym.

It was another hot summer's day and, as usual, the glass roof was open to the sky. Margaery was sitting up on the terrace with a magazine.

"Oh, hi Marg" he grumbled. When he was pissed off at Arya it hadn't seemed like a bad idea to let Marg come on the bike ride, but now he had cooled his jets, he would much rather it was just him and Jon, or even Jon and Loras, but not bloody Marg. Now he wanted quiet, freedom, Zen on his bike, and that wasn't going to happen with chatterbox Marg.

However, she was here, so if he wanted company she was likely going to tag along too.

Jon and Loras only stopped rolling around once Loras managed to get the ballpoint pen out of Jon's hand and pretend to stab it in Jon's eye. Jesus – a ball point pen as a weapon. It was all too 'Jason Bourne' for Gendry who didn't see the point when you could just as easily rip someone's throat out with your wolf fangs. They were both panting and sweaty when they finally stood up.

"Hey. I fancy a bike ride…_if you want to come?_" He added quietly in the hope that Marg might not hear.

Jon wiped the sweat out of his eyes. "I'm dead dude. I need a shower and a rest."

"And I have more important things to do than roar around the Stormlands for the hell of it." Loras muttered grumpily.

"I'll come!" Margaery squealed loudly from the terrace above their heads.

The three of them looked up and Gendry muttered 'great' sarcastically under his breath.

Jon sighed heavily as he and Loras exchanged a knowing look.

"Ok, we'll come" Jon groaned, apparently speaking for both of them "We won't leave you with the wicked witch of the west."

Gendry was surprised Loras let the 'witch' comment pass. Maybe Edric was right, Margaery was majorly pissing Loras off for some reason.

"Give us twenty minutes to get showered and we'll meet you in the garage." Loras groaned resignedly.

"Ok, see you there in twenty minutes!" Margaery yelled down, before running off, no doubt to slap on some more make up.

Gendry waited until she was well out of earshot before asking Loras

"Is your sister pissing you off mate?"

Loras snorted. "How perceptive of you to finally notice _LB_"

Loras and Jon laughed at that. Obviously there was some in-joke about 'LB' that he had missed. He looked blankly at the two of them.

"_Lover boy?_" Jon groaned. "God, you can be so slow sometimes Gendry. Do you not see it?"

He shook his head.

"She's after you _LB_. We thought you put up with it as you enjoyed the attention or something."

"I thought she was only still here because Loras wanted her to stay!"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Loras spluttered. "So I can watch her swan around all day while the rest of us work our arses off? I've asked her to help out. I've _told_ her she needs to _bloody do something_ but she just ignores me and yes - it does piss me off!"

"Watch yourself mate." Jon advised Gendry. "I don't trust her. She's up to something." Loras didn't comment, but he did look away, embarrassed.

Twenty minutes later the three of them were in the huge subterranean garage, dug out from the rock below Storm's End. Gendry loved it down here. It was cool, quiet and full of engines.

A few years before Renly and Loras had treated themselves to two Ducati Monster motorbikes. They had hardly been used and still looked as shiny and pristine as the day they'd come out of the factory. They were parked beside Gendry's huge green Kawasaki. The big Kwak dwarfed the two red Italian bikes and was at least 100kg heavier, but Gendry was a big guy and he'd bought a big bike. One of the reasons he'd bought such a big bike was because it had two comfy seats. Now that meant _he_ got Margaery.

He still had his precious, painted Bull Helmet; one of the few things he'd taken from his flat before Loras burnt it down. His leather racing suit hadn't survived the fire, so Gendry had made sure he had a new one, purchased with his Baratheon credit card. The one he'd left hanging up in the wardrobe of his flat he'd bought second hand and it never really fitted him. The new one was something else - it fitted like a second skin with the lightest, strongest Kevlar body armour on the market. His suit was black and green, while the other two were red and white, all to match the bikes.

They were all ready and waiting on Margaery.

"Do you think we could just go without her?" Gendry wondered out loud.

"Come on, she's still my sister." Loras groaned.

"And you _did_ invite her." Jon added.

So they waited. And waited.

Turning his Bull Helmet over in his gloved hands, admiring the paint job for the thousandth time, reminded Gendry he had to phone the guy who'd sprayed it. He needed to find out how the Wolf Helmet he'd commissioned for Arya's 21st birthday was coming on. He chuckled to himself when he thought about how anxious he had been handing over the £500 deposit. He'd ordered it a few days after he'd met Arya again in the Doctor's surgery as he'd known the guy took a long time and he had to order it really quickly if it was going to be ready in time for her birthday.

It had seemed such a lot of money back then. He had picked the best helmet to start with and he still had to pay another £200 when it was finished. Although he'd never doubted she was worth it, he had wondered what he would do with it if she dumped him before her birthday. He had simply decided failure wasn't an option. He had promised himself he'd do _everything_ he could to make sure she never got away again. Little did he suspect back then all the weird shit that was going to happen.

But, sitting with Jon and Loras, who were his pack brothers now, thinking about Edric, his real brother and looking over at his Aston Martin (parked safely in the corner against the wall where no idiot could bump it) he was glad it had all happened. He didn't just have a family now – _he had a pack_ and he also had Arya. He hoped. Just as he had vowed to himself way back then, he would do whatever it took to make sure she remained his. A quiet life and a happy ending – that would suit him just fine.

"Are we going to race?" Jon wondered as they all grew restless, straddling the bikes, hands on the petrol tanks, anxious to be off.

"Why not?" Gendry smirked, confident he would win. "Loser has to take Marg back."

Jon groaned and Loras rolled his eyes, but they both agreed to the bet.

When she eventually opened the door to the garage, they didn't even wait for her to get on the back of Gendry's bike before they started their engines. The wonderful noise made by the three bikes thundered around the underground garage. The Kawasaki had a deep, throbbing rumble; the huge four stroke engine promising to devour any piece of tarmac it was shown. The Ducatis, being two strokes, sounded like eager dogs barking, desperate to slip the leash, run free and howl. In fact _dogs_, wasn't right – _wolves_ was a _much_ better comparison in the circumstances.

They sat revving their engines as Margaery fastened her helmet and climbed on. If she hoped Gendry was going to make a fuss of her, she would have been sorely disappointed. As soon as she was on he impatiently snapped his iridium visor down and revved the engine harder. She seemed to know exactly what she was doing, as her arms were quickly snaked around his waist and her helmet rested on his shoulder. Thank God he had on a leather suit, as he was sure her hands would have been up his jacket or down his trousers given half a chance.

Gendry sized up the competition as they carefully rode the bikes up the exit ramp towards daylight. While Gendry had the bigger, faster bike, he was two up. The Ducatis were smaller, lighter, more manoeuvrable, but he'd ridden a bike every day for the past ten years (well…almost everyday, except for the days he was still drunk from the night before, couldn't afford the petrol or stuck in the bloody Baratheon Enterprises office). Jon hadn't owned a bike for years and Loras was an unknown quantity. Loras was never less than impressive at anything he did, but judging by the lack of miles on his Ducati, he hadn't been on a bike for a long time either.

Feeling Margaery's arms around his waist reminded Gendry sharply of Arya and the time they'd set out to go to Harrenhal and only made it as far as Hot Pie's pub. He needed to take her back to Harrenhal sometime soon and drop in and see their old friend again. Maybe in the Aston Martin - he'd love to see Hot Pie's face when they drove up in that.

They rode slowly through the courtyard, under the great portcullis and out to the gatehouse. Jon and Loras were testing their bikes; weaving from side to side, revving the engines; getting used to the power and the handling. He didn't need to. His bike was like an old friend. He knew that, once they were through the gate, the fastest bike would win, until they got to the first bend anyway. He was going to make damn sure his was the fastest bike. Once they got into the bends, Margaery was a liability and no amount of skill or power would compensate for his having a pillion passenger. The Ducatis, being so much lighter, were more 'flickable' and would make up whatever advantage he gained on the straights once they got into the curves.

The three of them revved their engines as they waited for the security barrier to lift. The guards stood well out of the way, grinning as the barrier inched up. Gendry took the opportunity to turn around and tell Marg to hold on tight – although she didn't seem to need reminding. Any tighter and she'd be cutting off the blood supply to his damn legs.

As soon as the gate was open, Loras pulled a screaming wheelie and shot ahead. The Kawasaki was too heavy to wheelie, so Gendry held it in first gear, listening to the engine sing then scream as the Speedo hit 70 miles per hour. The rev counter was bouncing off the red line at 11,000 rpm as he dropped into second gear, holding the throttle open again until the revs were in the red and the Speedo was hitting 100. They were still only five seconds out of the gate. Loras and Jon were left in his dust. He was vaguely aware of Margaery's screaming being muffled by her helmet and his wailing banshee engine. A bit of girly screaming wasn't going to deter him from riding to win.

They were headed to the viewpoint, on the far side of Shipbreaker bay. There was a long straight before the first bend, but after that, the twists in the road would favour the lighter bikes. He knew this was his chance to get ahead and he crouched low over the tank, trying to tuck his head behind the screen so the air would slipstream over his Bull helmet. If bloody Marg had any sense, she'd be doing the same.

He could see the two red bikes in his mirrors and they weren't as far back as he'd hoped. He kept the throttle twisted open, screaming the bike up through the gears, keeping that needle up in the red until he had to brake. He saw 150 before he had to slow for the corner. If he'd been on a Ducati, he could have left the breaking until much later, but with a pillion and a heavy bike, there was no way to avoid squeezing the brake lever well before the corner. Hopefully Loras and Jon wouldn't be comfortable enough with their bikes yet to leave their breaking until the last minute.

He leaned the bike over as far as he dared with Marg on the back. Thankfully she didn't 'do an Arya' and lean the wrong way. Marg leant into the curve with him. He gunned the bike again as soon as they reached the apex of the bend, feeling the Kawasaki respond instantly, leaping forward as he twisted the throttle.

This time he couldn't get any significant speed up before they hit the next curve, but more confident that Marg wasn't going to fuck up his cornering, he left the breaking slightly later and leaned the bike further over. He could see one of the red bikes in his mirrors, powering out of the last corner, but he couldn't tell which one it was.

The road to the view point was only 31 miles long and, at this rate, it wasn't going to take them long to get there. Already he could see the grey turrets of Griffen's Roost in the distance. They weren't following the road all the way around the bay to Rain House as, after the view point, the Cape Wrath road became a single track and, worse than that, it was full of potholes. He wondered why Renly hadn't done something about it before. It would make a great, long circuit if the road was better. He'd need to attend to that himself sometime, but right now he had to make sure he got to the view point first.

Another bend before they hit a straight. Both of the Ducatis had closed the gap through the bends and he needed to really nail this stretch past Griffen's Roost if he was going to win the bet. As he glanced at the red and white flag fluttering above the castle the name 'Connington' sprang to mind. Penrose was trying to teach him all about the lands he was now Lord of and, thankfully, it seemed as if some of the information had stuck.

Past Griffen's Roost and he'd widened the gap again. Another sweeping curve and he could see the red brick chimneys of Crow's Nest, further inland. House Morrigen - he remembered. Penrose would be proud.

The road became narrower now and headed slightly inland so the trees of Rainwood Forest blocked the views of the bay on their left hand side. There were no more straights between here and the viewpoint; only twisting, turning, tree lined curves. He hunkered down behind the screen and felt Margaery's head lean heavily on his shoulder but nothing mattered except the road and the race.

As he negotiated one sweeping bend after another, he could see that with every mile he was loosing ground to Jon and Loras. There wasn't much distance between the two red bikes and the gap between them and him was closing rapidly. He tore passed a road sign. "View point 2 ½ miles". If he could only hold them off that long he'd win.

He could hear the Ducati wolves barking at his heels as they finally broke through the tree line and out onto the barren rocks of the headland jutting into Shipbreaker bay. Suddenly there was nothing between them and the horizon except a car park that looked as if it was at the edge of the world.

With one last glance in his mirrors he pulled on the brakes and brought the bike to a skidding halt in front of the burger van parked at one end of the car park.

He didn't even have time to kick the side stand down before the two red bikes were screeching to a halt beside him. The first rider to arrive pulled off his helmet, whooping and hollering.

"What a buzz!" Loras yelled. "Man, I'd forgotten how good it feels to have a throbbing machine between my legs!"

Despite losing the bet, Jon looked equally exhilarated. "Nice riding Gendry. I nearly had you there Loras. Another couple of miles and you'd be eating my dust."

None of them paid any attention to Margaery until she staggered off the back of the bike and threw her helmet at Loras who caught it deftly with one hand.

"What the bloody fucking hell was that!? You nearly killed us Gendry!" she screamed.

"When?" he asked, surprised.

"The whole fucking time! If you think I'm EVER getting back on that bike again with you you've got another thing coming!"

"Awww, sorry Marg. I didn't mean to scare you. How about you ride back with Jon? He'd like that, wouldn't you Jon?" he smirked.

"Sure Margaery. I'll go nice and slow for you." Jon agreed.

"You can't do anything else mate!" Loras spluttered, before he and Gendry burst out laughing.

"Ohhhhh!" Margaery yelled in frustration as she stomped over and whacked Loras on the head with her gloves.

"Shit! What did I do to deserve that?!" Loras roared.

"It's bad enough _them_ acting like little boys but _you_ are old enough to know better!"

"Yeah _old_ man! _You snooze, you loose!" _ Gendry guffawed.

To Margaery's obvious annoyance, it was another twenty minutes before they were ready to ride back. Loras spent the time peering over the edge of the cliffs at the waves breaking on the rocks below. Jon bought a burger and Gendry took photos on his phone of Cape Wrath curving away in the distance on one side and Storm's End far across the bay on the other to show Arya when she arrived for the ball. Margaery had offered to be in them, but her offer was declined with a curt 'no thanks'.

The journey back was pretty uneventful. Jon and Gendry swapped bikes so Jon could take Margaery back. As Gendry expected, he was a much better rider than Loras when they were on identical bikes. Gendry was feeling very smug as he arrived back in the courtyard of Storm's End first to find Renly helping someone out of his Bentley; someone with long, white blond hair and a dirty French laugh.

"Perfect timing!" Renly declared, looking very pleased with himself. "I presume Jon's not far behind? I brought him a present."

Daenerys giggled "I 'ear Jon 'as been working too hard. I 'am 'ere to distract 'im!"

Gendry had no doubt Danni would do just that. Jon had been a miserable git since she left, but Jon had deliberately not been in touch with her since he'd had confirmation they were related. Jon had decided trying to forget all about her was the best way to deal with it. Gendry wondered if his uncle had asked Jon before inviting Danni. He doubted it as Jon would have said no.

As soon as Gendry had his Bull helmet off and saw Daenerys properly he knew there was something different about her. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. Same sexy pout, hair the same, curves still in all the right places, same sophisticated French style – everything looked the same, but _something_ was different. The breeze was blowing in the wrong direction, so he couldn't get a good sniff of her scent. What little he was getting was pure Danni – exotic, perfumed…aroused.

She headed straight for him, squealing "Gendry!" in that sexy French accent. He knew that his sharpened wolf senses would be able to tell him what his human ones couldn't. As he leaned over the bike to let her kiss his cheeks, he inhaled, drawing Danni's scent deep into his lungs, only to be shocked by the jolt he took. It was still unmistakeably Danni, but there was something else; something ancient, primal and terrifyingly strong had awakened in him. He'd never felt a surge of emotion quite like it. His wolf brain was roaring '_defend, defend, protect, protect!_'

He felt as if he was reeling by the time she pulled away to greet Loras who had just pulled up. Gendry watched for Loras' reaction. As soon as Danni approached, he saw his pack brother's nostrils flare and his eyes spring wide open. Loras got it too. As Danni hugged and kissed him, his eyes closed and a beatific, serene look settled on his face. What the fuck?! He'd never seen Loras look like that before!

When Danni was finished greeting Loras and Loras had composed himself, Gendry caught his eye, raising his eyebrows and wordlessly communicating "What the fuck was that?"

Loras' grin was a mile wide as he mouthed back '_pregnant_'.

Sweet Jesus! Jon was going to be a dad.

The man himself soon arrived on Gendry's bike with fucking Margaery clinging onto him like a limpet. Dear God, talk about bad fucking timing.

"Oo is she?!" Danni demanded in a very angry French accent.

Jon had his visor up and looked as shocked to see Danni as she was to see a woman with her arms wrapped around Jon. Even in a leather suit and a helmet, there was no mistaking Margaery for a bloke. Even Gendry had to admit, she had curves in all the right places.

As Margaery gracefully climbed off the back of Jon's bike, removing her helmet and shaking her long hair free, Gendry spluttered. He was desperately trying to come up with a plausible excuse for Jon having another woman on the back of his bike. Fortunately Loras was a faster thinker.

"That's Gendry's bike and she's my little sister Margaery. Gendry was supposed to take Margaery, but he scared her so much she swore she was never getting back on a bike with him. So Jon had to come to her rescue and bring her home!"

Judging by the smile on her face, Danni liked that fairy tale - Jon as the knight in shining armour.

"Ov course my Jon would come to the rescue!" Danni giggled as Jon removed his helmet to reveal a reluctant grin.

The shock on Danni's face was a picture.

"Mon Dieu! What 'av you done to your beautiful 'air? Where are your curls?" Danni shrieked.

"Oh, yeah that…" Jon groaned, rubbing his hand over his shaved head.

Loras came to the rescue again.

"I'm afraid I made him get it cut Miss Targaryen. Unfortunately long hair is too easy for an opponent to grab and use to his advantage."

Danni drew Loras a stinker of a look and then she glared at Margaery who was handing Jon back the spare helmet and thanking him profusely for being such a fantastic rider. With her fists balled on her hips, Danni looked like she was spoiling for a fight with either of the Tyrells. Renly stepped in to diffuse the situation, taking Margaery by the arm and steering her into the castle.

"I'm glad you're back Margaery dear. We need to go over some arrangements for the Ball."

As Danni cooed and drooled over Jon, who despite his previous protestations, looked equally delighted to see her, Gendry tried to gather his thoughts.

How long had it been since the night on the roof terrace? The night of the goddamn photos, the night before the full moon? _The night before he'd been bitten?_

The full moon was three days away now, so not even a month had passed. Did Danni realise herself yet? He thought not as he wasn't picking up any apprehension or nerves and surely there would be some if she was here to tell Jon her news.

He was so lost in his thoughts, he didn't really register Danni putting on Margaery's motorbike helmet and hitching her skirt up, preparing to climb on the back of Jon's bike – of _his _bike.

"Whoa!" Gendry yelled. "Danni, maybe you should relax a bit first, unwind, come and have a cup of tea, put your feet up…"

Loras was rolling his eyes at him and Jon was looking at him like he was an idiot.

"I want to ride zee beeg bike with Jon. I will relax later." Danni scolded as she swung her leg over the pillion seat, obviously not caring who saw her panties.

Trying to stop Danni hadn't worked, so he had to try and warn Jon.

"You've got a very precious cargo there."

"Yeah, I know" Jon smirked.

_Dear God, you have no idea,_ Gendry thought to himself but only said "Please be careful Jon, very, very careful. No risks, no showing off."

"Chillax Gendry! Your bike will be safe." Jon groaned, snapping his visor down

It wasn't the goddamn bike he was worried about.

As Danni clung on around Jon's waist, skirt up around her arse, Jon gunned the big bike to life. With a nod and a wink to Gendry, Jon spun the back tyre, sending a fountain of gravel arcing behind the bike before roaring off towards the open road.

"Yeah, you need to chillax. She's pregnant, she's not sick." Loras tried to reassure Gendry, patting his shoulder. "Jon's a safe rider and he won't take any chances with Danni. They'll be fine."

The two of them stood together and watched Danni's pert backside disappear out of sight.

"Renly and I thought it would good for Jon to get a bit of rest and relaxation in before the full moon." Loras sighed "…but obviously we didn't know she was pregnant."

"We've got to tell him before the Full Moon if _she _doesn't." Gendry said anxiously.

Loras cocked one eyebrow, obviously thinking no such thing.

"Come on! We need to! This changes everything. He's going to be a father and what son wants a Werewolf for a dad?" Gendry asked miserably.

Before Loras could answer, Renly interrupted, having returned to the courtyard without Margaery.

"**My **pack's certainly expanding more rapidly that I could have dared hope." he chuckled. "You and Arya need to get a move on Gendry."

Gendry instantly felt his hackles rise. _Renly's____pack?! _When had they become Renly's pack? Maybe it was because his inner wolf had been woken by Danni and the primeval urge to protect and defend was still too raw, but Gendry knew from that moment - they weren't Renly's pack, _they were __**his**_and he'd destroy anyone or anything that stood in his way.

"If Arya still won't have you… _remember there's always Margaery!_" Renly smirked.

Gendry had managed to hold it for weeks now, but he lost control of his wolf then, snarling and spitting, teeth bared at Renly who just fucking laughed. Who the fuck did Renly think he was and what was he playing at?

If Loras hadn't come between them, face pressed against Gendry's, barking "Not here! Not now!", while pushing him away with superhuman force, he might have lost it all together. He might have gone all the way on his uncle. All the way… there and then, in broad daylight, in the courtyard of Storm's End.

"Chillax!" Renly shouted after them as Loras bundled Gendry away. "I was only joking!"

Like fuck he was. Gendry was beginning to think his uncle was behind bloody Margaery's ambition to become Lady Baratheon and there was no fucking way that was ever going to happen.

_Arya was the one._ Always had been, always would be. Arya was _his_ to protect and defend. He wanted what Jon had. No more games, no more pissing around. Once she got here she wasn't leaving again until his baby was growing in her belly.

-o-

Uncle Renly's secretary had buzzed down to the Legal Department at 12.30 and asked that Edric be sent up to the up to the top floor. Myrcella would be waiting outside with his lunch at 1 o'clock. Whatever his uncle wanted, Edric hoped it wouldn't take long.

When Edric saw that Gendry was in his uncle's office too, standing looking out of the floor to ceiling glass window, he knew something was up. The tension between the two men was palpable.

"Take a seat." Uncle Renly ordered sternly. Gendry didn't look around; instead he kept right on staring out of the window, hands in pockets. That was odd; Gendry was usually so pleased to see him.

For a moment Edric thought he was in trouble. His mind raced through the mistakes he'd made in the past two and a half weeks, searching for anything that could have resulted in him getting a row. The only thing he could think of was that he'd made forty copies of a huge lease for the new warehouse by mistake, rather than four. Ok, so he wasted a forest worth of paper, but that didn't merit being called up to the Big, Big Boss's office did it? Gendry might call himself the Big Boss, but Edric knew who really held the reins of power in the company and it sure wasn't his brother.

"Do you know why you're here Edric?"

He gulped. "No." Even he could hear the tremor of fear in his voice.

"Well Gendry and I have been discussing the two and a half weeks you've spent with us and we have agreed that something is definitely lacking."

Edric's heart sank to his boots. He loved being here so much; surely they weren't going to send him back to Dragonstone already?

Gendry finally turned around, face stony.

"Here!" he growled, throwing something at Edric. Edric tried to catch, but fumbled and dropped a set of keys on the floor. As he bent down to pick them up he saw a Citroen car badge on the key fob. Car keys!

"She's waiting for you outside Bro!"

She? Myrcella? Then he realised Gendry probably meant the car.

"A sporty little Citroen DS3 Special Edition, black with a red roof, red mirrors, black alloys, tinted windows – you're going to _love_ her." Gendry said enthusiastically. He seemed even more excited than Edric.

"And this is from me!" Uncle Renly tossed him another set of keys - the keys to his flat.

"Your flat is ready for you."

"_Shag pad!_" Gendry mouthed behind Renly's back.

Renly continued smoothly "I arranged for your things to be brought from Storm's End this morning. It's fully furnished; the fridge is stocked, so you should be ready to go."

"_Shagging!"_ Gendry mouthed again, and this time adding some hip pumping action for extra emphasis.

Realising something was going on behind him as Edric couldn't stop himself sniggering, Renly swivelled around in his chair. He was too late to catch Gendry's shagging dance, but nevertheless caught Gendry looking guilty.

"I've programmed the address into the sat nav so you don't get lost!" Gendry explained, rapidly changing the subject.

"Good…" Renly agreed, looking suspiciously at Gendry "…and you can take the rest of the day off Edric."

Edric couldn't wait to get out and tell Myrcella all about it. Maybe he could run her home to pick up her overnight things. He really, really hoped she was going to stay the night.

It seemed Myrcella was already prepared. She was sitting waiting for him at the usual spot with a bright pink sports bag at her side – he hoped it was her over night bag.

He tried to walk calmly over to her, but he couldn't stop himself and he ran. She stood up, grinning, delighted to see him. He wasn't going to make another mistake, so he grabbed her and kissed her while urgency and excitement made him brave. It was awkward as they bumped noses and then teeth, but they did it! Her lips tasted of strawberry sweeties and, after a few seconds, they were kissing as smoothly and as passionately as if they'd been practicing for years. And the kiss kept going and going. All Gendry's advice went out the window. Tease her? He only came up for air because he couldn't breathe anymore.

She smiled happily and he loved how she was flushed, eyes sparkling and lip gloss smeared around her mouth. She must have shared her lip gloss with him as she pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at his lips.

"You can't walk around like that" she giggled, showing him the pink lip gloss on her handkerchief.

"We're not walking anywhere!" he crowed, dangling the car keys in front of her "and I've got the rest of the day off!"

"I know." She giggled. "Mr Tyrell caught up with me yesterday when you went back to work and told me you'd be finishing at 1 o'clock today. That's why I'm organised." She smiled shyly as she picked up the pink sports bag, turning a quite wonderful shade of pink herself.

Edric carried her bag and together they walked to the car park.

"_Oh yes!_" Edric whooped as they turned the corner into the car park and saw a shiny little black and red Citroen, with a huge red bow on its roof. As they walked over, the old parking attendant who always seemed to be on duty came out of his hut holding a big pair of scissors. He held them out to Edric, who passed them to Myrcella.

As she cut through the ribbon, the big red bow slid off the roof and landed on their heads. They burst out laughing as they fought to escape from under the giant bow.

The attendant wished them luck as they excitedly got into the car. It smelled wonderful, as only a brand new car can. Already Edric loved the red seatbelts, the red steering wheel, red gear knob and the matt black dashboard.

When Edric switched on the sat nav, Yoda's voice told them to 'turn left in 500 yards'. They looked at each other and started giggling. Edric leaned across and kissed Myrcella again. He didn't know why he'd waited so long, as kissing her was _brilliant_.

-o-

"Are you ready?" Edric asked; key poised to unlock the door. Myrcella nodded eagerly. He turned the key and pushed the door open, revealing a glossy white kitchen with a huge, stainless steel fridge and bright spotlights set in the ceiling that made everything sparkle.

"Wow!" they both gasped together.

"Wait!" Edric said, dropping the pink bag at his feet. Myrcella looked at him, puzzled.

He'd always wanted to make a big, romantic gesture and now he had the chance. He wrapped his arms around her, scooped her up and carried her over the threshold of his new flat as she squealed with delight.

As soon as he put her down gently in the kitchen she pulled him to her for another kiss. He was lost again, until she broke off, panting "Don't forget my bag."

He retrieved the bag and locked the door.

"Come and see this!" she urged, holding one of the big fridge doors open.

It was full to bursting. There must have been at least a dozen bottles of champagne, a whole shelf of diet coke and another six shelves of relentlessly healthy stuff. This was obviously Gendry's doing. As if reading his mind, Myrcella elbowed him in the ribs

"Don't worry. I made us some cupcakes."

She opened her bag and, sitting on the top were two sparkly cupcakes in a plastic box. When she removed the box, he could help noticing the creamy, silky something folded underneath.

She noticed him staring. Looking sideways at him, she shyly pulled out a little, wispy, silky, floaty, nightie thing. She held it up to her shoulders, giving him an idea of what it was going to look like later on, _in bed, when she was naked underneath._ He gulped as he felt his dick suddenly strain against the zip of his suit trousers.

"This is for tonight" she giggled, twisting and turning so the nightie floated around. Bloody hell! It barely reached the top of her legs. His brain was working overtime, producing smoking hot images of what she was going to look like with only that on.

"Umm. Wow!" he managed to mutter.

"Come on. Let's explore the rest of your flat" she said excitedly, pulling him by the hand into the next room. As soon as her back was turned, he had to adjust his throbbing dick, trapped uncomfortably in his pants.

A huge TV occupied most of one wall, with empty book cases on either side. It wouldn't take him long to fill them up. In front of the TV was a big squashy, comfy brown sofa with one of those long bits at the end you could lie on and stretch your legs out. Heaven!

He jumped on it and could instantly tell he was going to spend many happy hours lying there watching The Big Bang Theory and all his other favourite shows. He patted the empty space beside him.

"_You've got to come and try this!"_

Myrcella grinned and rather awkwardly lay down beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. He shifted, so that he could wrap his arm around her. As her soft hair brushed against the side of his face and his hand, he sighed contentedly. It wasn't planned, it just came out. She seemed to like it as she wriggled a bit closer, reaching her arm across his chest and under his suit jacket, giving him a squeeze. He sighed again, but this time it probably came out more like a frustrated moan.

He hadn't been able to imagine how it would actually happen before. He had imagined making love to her so many times, in so many ways, but in his fevered imagination, they were always mid act; she was already panting under him and his dick was already buried deep inside her. Now he was imagining something else; undressing her slowly as she undressed him, kissing her throat, her wondrous breasts, sliding his hand between her thighs to see if she was wet and ready for him…

"Hmm. I like this" she murmured, squeezing him again and wriggling against his hip.

Bloody hell! If she didn't stop doing that there was a good chance he was going to come in his pants before he'd even got to see her naked. Oh God, thinking about seeing her naked made it even worse.

He sat up suddenly. If he didn't get some distance between them he was going to embarrass himself.

"I think we should see what else there is." He said hurriedly as he rolled of the edge of the sofa, standing up and adjusting himself again as soon as his back was to her. Myrcella was left lying there on her own, wondering what the hell just happened. Edric didn't think this was quite what Gendry had in mind when he said 'tease her'.

Myrcella reluctantly got up and followed him to the bathroom. There was no shower, but there was a large oval bath with the taps in the centre. A person could comfortably sit at each end. Edric wondered if that was Gendry's idea too. Myrcella had a look in the mirrored cabinets while he tried not to look at her bum and tried not to imagine that little nightie skimming the tops of her thighs with a little bit of bum cheek peeking out under her nightie. That particular mental image forced him to hurriedly walk out of the bathroom and adjust himself in his suit trousers _again._

She followed him. "We could take a bath" she murmured, standing on her tip toes before kissing him softly on the lips. He was acutely aware of his erection trapped between them and all he could think about was whether she noticed it too. He was too distracted this time to kiss her back. She dropped down onto her heels again, looking at him strangely.

"Are you ok Edric?"

"Umm, of course – great. Let's look at the bedrooms."

The first door revealed a smallish bedroom with a big bed taking up almost all the space. Above the bed was a big, framed picture of an angry looking black and green motorbike. It seemed Gendry was staking a claim to this spare room. Myrcella didn't look very impressed.

The next bedroom was much bigger and the bed looked very inviting. The décor was very manly – all navy, white and dark wood. There were mirrored wardrobes along one wall and an en-suite with a shower big enough for two. When he came back from inspecting the shower, Myrcella was lying on the bed, shoes off, looking very pleased with herself. He'd never known what 'come to bed eyes' were before, but he guessed he was seeing them now.

"_You've got to try this!_" she giggled, patting the bed beside her.

He gulped. This was awkward. Was she a virgin? Could she tell he was?

"Err, can we get something to eat first?" he wondered nervously.

Her face fell, and then she obviously had an idea. "You can eat _me_ if you like" she giggled, her face turning a delightful shade of pink again.

"Errrr…." He stammered.

She sat up on the bed with a determined look on her face.

"Edric! Get over here now!"

She jabbed the empty space at her side with her finger.

He hurried over and sat down on the bed beside her, nervously rubbing his hands on his knees, avoiding eye contact.

"I know you've not done this before…"

Oh shit! Was it that obvious? He thought he was playing it cool.

"…and neither have I but _we're doing it now_. _Ok?"_

He gulped and nodded.

"Take your shoes off." She ordered.

He did what he was told as she slid off the bed and kneeled in front of him on the floor. Oh shit! Was she going to do what he thought…what he hoped she was going to do? Keeping her eyes locked on his, as if daring him to try and stop her, she pushed his knees apart and slid forwards, so she was kneeling right between his thighs. Then she reached up, unfastened the top button of his shirt and loosened his tie. If the touch of her hands felt this good through his shirt, what the hell was naked going to feel like?

She pulled on his tie, making him bend forward, where her eager lips were waiting for his. This kiss was different. He felt her tongue reaching for his and, as their tongues intertwined, he felt her hand on his belt – undoing it, then the button, then the zip. He gasped as he felt her fingers brush against his swollen dick. They both looked down at the big bulge in his white cotton trunks rearing through the opening in his trousers. There was already a large, wet circle on the white cotton where his dick had been oozing pre-cum since she'd shown him her skimpy nightie.

She licked her lips and stared up at him with those big, green eyes. Letting go of his tie, she worked his Armani trunks down further, allowing his dick to spring free. It wasn't porn star length, but it wasn't short either and it was thick as a tin of tuna. He was already very proud of it and her leaving his trunks bunched up under his balls just made his whole package stand even more proudly to her attention.

He couldn't quite believe it was really happening as she wrapped one soft hand around his shaft and glanced up at him again, mouth open and ready to take him in her mouth. He had to fight the urge to close his eyes. He was in heaven, but he wanted to see this and remember it for ever.

She licked the tip delicately and he shuddered at the unfamiliar yet marvellous feeling. He hoped he was going to be able to last long enough to not embarrass himself. He wanted to show her what a considerate lover he was, but there was a very good chance he wasn't going to last any time at all. As she took him fully into her mouth for the first time, the new sensation of her hand and her mouth working him together was better than even his wildest fantasies. His hands had to do _something_ and they gripped the bunched up bedclothes so hard his knuckles turned white. Sweet Jesus, this was fucking awesome. Looking at her, with her lips wrapped around his shaft and her cheeks hollowed as she sucked, would have been enough to push him over the edge without the added stimulation of her tongue and her mouth doing all sorts of new and wonderful things to his dick.

Seconds later he was groaning and panting, "Myrcella…stop…I'm going to…" but she only sucked harder and he exploded in her mouth before he even had time to warn her properly.

After he'd come and could breath again, he was overcome with embarrassment. He needed to apologise for being such a light weight, but her eyes were dancing, smiling up at him as she slid her mouth off his dick and reached for a tissue from the box thoughtfully placed by the bed. She spat into the tissue as delicately as she could, then handed him one, so he could clean himself up.

"I know I'm supposed to swallow, but I…I just couldn't. I'll try and do it next time though" she mumbled shyly.

She was apologising to him!?

"Come here!" he gasped and pulled her up, collapsing back on the bed so she was lying on top of him. Their noses were almost touching and he thought he could drown in those green eyes.

"That was the most fucking awesome thing that has ever happened to me and you were fantastic. It's me who needs to apologise for coming so quickly…and in your mouth too." He was embarrassed by his lack of stamina.

She grinned, letting him know she didn't mind. She was so amazing he _had_ to kiss her, not caring where her mouth had just been. He lifted his head and neck up off the bed to kiss her. She returned his kiss with equal passion, crushing their lips together. He tasted himself on a girl's lips for the first time and found he didn't mind at all.

As they kissed, Myrcella reached for his hand and placed it on her breast. He squeezed it gently making her groan into his mouth as their kisses deepened. He felt his dick begin to throb again. It would be so easy to throw her on her back and plunge straight into her, but that would hardly be fair and anyway, he'd been reading up on how to make her come with his tongue, just as Gendry suggested.

Without breaking their kiss, he worked his hands down between them. It was his turn to unbutton her jeans and slide them down over her hips. Soon he couldn't get them any further and she broke off their tonguing kiss to hurriedly remove them, before dropping back down on top of him again. This time he rolled her over and slid his hand down between their bodies and into her panties, instinctively seeking the entrance to that warm, wet place he'd dreamt about so often. She gasped as his fingers found her clit for the first time, encouraging him to reach down further. As he searched, she shifted slightly under him and one finger tip slid easily inside. She was warmer, wetter and tighter than he had ever imagined. The soft little 'uh' sounds she made as he gently explored her made him desperate for more.

It was time to take things down south and he eased himself up and off her, loving the fact that she groaned with disappointment as he removed his finger.

First he pushed her T shirt up, exposing her lacy white bra, before gently freeing her breasts, one at a time, from the lace. Her exposed breasts reminded him of the most delicious, cherry topped cakes. He drew one of the ripe, cherry nipples into his mouth, sucking her tender flesh as she arched her back and pushed her breasts together for him. Taking the hint, he sucked on the other one until it was as hard and red as its twin.

Delighted he was able to give so much pleasure to his beautiful girl; he knelt above her and pushed her knees apart, revealing an already soaking scrap of cotton. She lifted her hips to help him dispose of her panties, revealing springy golden curls which were dark in her centre where they were soaked with her juices. Remembering the instructions he'd found on the internet, he pressed his face between her legs and began to nuzzle her, loving her groans that intensified every time he flicked his tongue on her clit. That website deserved every one of its five star reviews.

She opened herself up further to him as he explored those mysterious folds with his tongue, probing into her centre and tasting her musky arousal. She was pushing against him, moaning and instinctively he knew she was close. He concentrated on her clit and was surprised when her fingers were suddenly in his hair, pulling him away.

"Get in me now Edric." She panted.

"But…" he started to protest, wanting to make her come first as Gendry had said.

"Now!"

He wasn't going to argue and moved up the bed, feeling his dick nudge against her. She felt for him, guiding him and then, amazingly, wonderfully, he was inside her. She was fantastically tight and wet and he pushed himself in as far in as he could, feeling her jolt under him. He was vaguely aware that he had just taken her virginity, but his desperate need to plunge into her again was too great to make him want to stop and besides, she was groaning and panting as hard as he was. He pulled back before plunging in again with all his weigh behind the thrust and continued to ram into her, his balls tightening as he reached exploding point. She jolted suddenly up against him and her tight muscles contracted on his whole length as she groaned his name. Knowing he had given her an orgasm was enough to send him over the edge and he came in a pulse that rocked his world. He didn't think he could ever be more content than he was at that moment.

"Still hungry?" she asked a while later as they lay entwined on his bed.

"Always" he teased, nibbling her earlobe.

"I could make us a salad."

"Bugger a salad! I'll phone us a pizza. If they deliver to work, they'll deliver here. I've got the number in my phone."

He dialled and ordered.

"Forty minutes. What are we going do to until then?"

She giggled. "You could eat me."

This time he didn't have to be asked twice.

Twenty five minutes later the doorbell rang. They'd just finished, but Edric had to hurriedly pull on his trousers and shirt before running barefoot to the door.

"Hurry back!" she told him breathlessly. No fear of him not.

When he opened the door he was surprised to see a freakishly tall man, wide enough to fill almost the entire doorway. Edric was even more surprised when the man took a step into the flat without being asked, jamming his boot against the door.

"Edric Baratheon?" the huge man rasped.

"That's me." Edric replied, thinking that Gerry's Pizza Palace must really be scraping the bottom of the barrel to find their delivery drivers these days.

"Myrcella Lannister here with you?"

How did the man know that? Too late Edric realised there was no pizza box and this wasn't the delivery man.

"Who's she?" he asked, brain racing, trying to think of a way out of this. "Look, if its money you want, I've got plenty if you'll just…"

Myrcella ruined his half formed plan by shouting "Hurry up!" from the bedroom.

As soon as he heard Myrcella's voice, an evil grin spread across the man's wretched face.

The next thing Edric knew, he was on his knees, watching his own blood stain the sparkling white floor. Before he could think about getting up, a boot smashed into his stomach and he flew backwards, seeing only brilliant spotlights before the back of his head hit the floor. More blows rained down upon him until all he could see was a haze of white and red. Myrcella screaming his name was the last thing he heard.

**Aww, poor Edric. At least he got some satisfaction first. I never intended write such a smutty POV for him, but sometimes I just can't stop myself…**


	26. Chapter 26 - Ghosts of Harrenhal

**Chapter 26**

**Ghosts of Harrenhal**

The exhibition had been stunning. Arya had never realised how large the canvases were. She had somehow imagined them to be only poster sized; after all, that was the common perception of Lichtenstein - perfect pop poster art.

Having someone as knowledgeable as Jaqen to guide you around only added to the experience. It was like having your own personal guided tour, only better. As they walked around the exhibition, Jaqen never volunteered information, but when she asked he always seemed to know, and not just about Lichtenstein, about _everything_. Eventually she asked him where he gained this encyclopaedic knowledge.

"A man sees, a man hears" he shrugged.

And that enigmatic answer was as much as she could get out of him.

He seemed right at home in The Tait and, in a gallery full of good looking, arty people he still stood out. His crumpled linen suit gave the impression that he was too busy being creative to bother with such irritating, domestic details like ironing, but the cut and the style conveyed money and taste. His long, shining hair and lean figure made it obvious he took care of himself, but was still anti-establishment enough to die his hair red and wear no socks. Arya didn't think she'd ever get used to that. A suit and shoes with no socks was always going to seem very un-British and bohemian to her.

It was very obvious that Jaqen elicited admiring glances from both men and women. She supposed they either coveted his effortless style or wanted him as a lover, in the hope that some of his arty chic might rub off on them. He didn't turn heads in the way Gendry did. Gendry was like a walking Diet Coke advert, with women stopping whatever they were doing to stare and drool. The attention Jaqen provoked was more subtle and from both sexes.

She was pleased Jaqen had asked her to accompany him, even if it meant pissing Gendry off. Possessiveness wasn't an attractive quality she decided; although she was secretly pleased Gendry cared enough to throw a toddler strop when he didn't get his own way with her. He would need to learn that _her_ life didn't revolve around _him _and plan accordingly_._

Two rather surprising things happened while they were in The Tait. The first was that they bumped into Theon Greyjoy. The most surprising thing about Theon being in an art gallery was that he had always been irritatingly proud of being a philistine. What wasn't so surprising was that his hand happened to accidentally find her arse.

She had wandered off from Jaqen's side as he seemed particularly fascinated by the 'Oh Jeff…I love you, Too…but…' canvas. She was standing on her own, contemplating one of Lichtenstein's earlier works, when she felt someone squeeze her bum. She whirled around, intending to slap the offender, only to see Theon Greyjoy behind her with a cocky smile on his face. The fact that it was him should have made her slap him harder, but she'd known him too long to take him seriously, so she just groaned

"Take your hand off my bottom you sleazy little shit."

"Glad to see you too" he drawled sarcastically.

She hadn't seen him for three or four years, but he hadn't changed at all. If anything, he looked even sleazier than the last time they'd met. His chin bristled with stubble, which he no doubt thought made him look sophisticated, but combined with his black hair and diamond studs in both ears, he looked more like a wannabe pirate. The first three buttons of his shirt were undone and she tried to avoid looking at the exposed forest of curly, black hair.

If Theon Greyjoy had been chocolate, he would have eaten himself.

"I didn't think this was your kind of place." She scoffed. 'Art' and 'Theon Greyjoy' weren't words you expected to hear in the same sentence.

"Nah, it's not, but there's a free bar and the place is full of models. They're always easy as long as you keep telling them how thin they are, don't ask them out to dinner and keep them topped up with coke."

He sniffed loudly and tapped the side of his nose, indicating he'd been on the Charlie already that night himself.

"Oh, lovely." Arya groaned sarcastically as she looked around. He was right though; there were loads of model types here, both guys and girls. Why the hell any of them would look twice at Theon was beyond her, but he had always been unbelievably arrogant and self obsessed.

When he had stayed at Winterfell he had never paid any attention to her. He'd left around the same time she had. She remembered Robb telling her that, after years of his father pretending he didn't exist, Theon had suddenly been welcomed back to the Iron Islands with open arms. Apparently his Dad was a nasty piece of work.

The boys might have tolerated Theon before and treated his constant lewd and crude behaviour as a joke, but after he had taken up with his father she'd heard he'd taken to frequenting prostitutes and doing hard drugs. The boys hadn't seen much of him since. Arya hadn't though he could have got any more repulsive, but obviously she had underestimated him.

"Have you spoken to any of the guys recently?" she asked, wondering if he knew Gendry had inherited a title and a shit load of money. Ha! That would have made Theon green with jealously.

When they were all younger, Robb and Jon never made a big deal of the fact that Gendry hadn't had the education or opportunities they'd had and couldn't afford to go a lot of the places they could. Theon on the other hand, loved reminding everyone how wealthy his family were and he was always rubbing Gendry's nose in it in particular.

"Nah. I've moved on and up. I run with a fast crew now." He smirked. "So how about you and me? Fancy a hook-up later tonight? I could come over to yours?"

Seriously? Theon 'sleazebag' Greyjoy wanted a _hook–up_ and at her flat too? The guy had no shame.

She was about to tell him to go fuck himself, but one thing was puzzling her.

"Why do you want to _hook-up _with me now Theon? You never even spoke to me at Winterfell."

"Come on Arya! Look at yourself! You were ok before, but you've grown in all the right places and you're hot enough now to land a guy like _me_." He said with a smirk, as if a _hook-up_ with him was the equivalent of winning the lottery.

Her surprise must have been obvious.

"Don't look so surprised! You know I always have the hottest girls on my arm and you are _way _the hottest girl here tonight."

His telling her she was the hottest girl in The Tate almost made her guffaw with laughter. Her? Amongst all these models? Theon must be even more stupid than she thought if he expected her to fall for that insincere flattery.

"_Come on, one night of joy with the big boy!_" He cajoled, flashing her that cocky smile and winking suggestively. "You'll never regret it and I'll let you cook me breakfast tomorrow."

"Not if you were the last man on earth and none of the batteries worked!" she hissed as she stalked off.

"You don't know what you're missing!" he yelled after her.

With a toss of her hair and without looking behind, she stuck the middle finger of her right hand up at him.

Jaqen was lost in thought, contemplating the iconic 'Wham' canvas.

Theon was thick skinned enough to follow her around the gallery, pleading with her in the hope he would wear her down and at least get a pity fuck. She'd had enough of him to last her the next three years, so, knowing he would still be watching, she slid her arm around Jaqen's shoulder. Jaqen looked mildly surprised and then pleased at the unexpected show of affection. Arya wasn't feeling quite so cocky when Jaqen slid his arm around _her _waist and, without taking his eyes off the canvas murmured

"A beautiful girl could do _much _better than that boy."

Arya gulped. She didn't think Jaqen had been watching and she knew she was playing with fire. She knew Jaqen liked her. He made it pretty obvious. He took every opportunity to touch her, but his massages were so good, she didn't mind. However he was a lot older and presumably very experienced. She was never sure if his sly glances and sensual massages were just his foreign way of being charming, or if he was hoping for more.

Oh dear. She didn't want to be a prick tease, so she slid her arm off his shoulder and slipped away.

"Come on, there are 125 of these to see and we've only seen a dozen."

The two of them were nearly at the end of the exhibition when they were approached by a very sharply dressed, very camp man. Arya initially though he was hitting on Jaqen as he introduced himself as a photographer and handed them both business cards. After discussing the exhibition briefly with Jaqen he turned his attention to Arya

"I'd love to take some shots of you for your portfolio" he lisped.

"Pardon?" she replied, tying to be polite, but unsure of what on earth he was talking about.

"For your portfolio" he repeated. "Mostly head shots, perhaps some body shots."

"I'm sorry." She apologized, feeling very embarrassed. "I don't know what you are talking about."

"You _are_ a model aren't you?"

Arya laughed. Maybe the poor man thought that it was models only night tonight at the Tate.

"No, of course I'm not." She giggled. She was flattered, as he seemed like a nice guy and he _definitely_ wasn't saying that to get into her pants; Jaqen's pants maybe, but not hers.

He continued unperturbed

"Oh my God! You so should be!" he squealed, grabbing her wrist, "you could do editorial easy, maybe catwalk too if you…uh… lost a little weight."

"Pardon?" she had to say again.

"You've got it all going on girlfriend! Bone structure, height, the more edgy, athletic look is _so _hot right now and I can tell my camera is going to just love you! Don't you agree?" he asked Jaqen excitedly, who, to Arya's surprise agreed.

"This man has said many times this girl is beautiful, but a girl is stubborn and refuses to listen."

Arya looked at Jaqen, mouth agape. Had he really told her that? She supposed he had, even as recently as tonight when he told her she was beautiful and could do better than Theon.

"Oh absolutely!" camp guy, agreed excitedly. "I have _loads _of contacts at the glossies and if the head shots are half as good as I think, you could get work from all the top titles; Elle, Marie Claire, Cosmo…" and then he whispered in a breathy, awed tone "…_maybe even Vogue!_" Before covering his mouth with his hand as if he'd just revealed a huge secret.

_Wait until Sansa hears this!_ _Arya horse face being scouted as a model!_

She took the guy's card and promised to call. It was worth humouring him, just to be able to tell Sansa that someone thought she was beautiful.

She was ridiculously pleased with herself when they eventually left The Tate. The gallery had been open late for the preview and they were one of the last couples to leave. It was past midnight when they walked out into the London night. She didn't want to hurry home, so she suggested they walk along the riverbank in the direction of her flat before hailing a taxi. Jaqen was happy to agree, so they strolled arm in arm, watching the few pleasure boats that were still on the river and pointing out the various landmarks they passed. Everything looked so different and magical at night.

It wasn't often London was this quiet and Arya decided it was the ideal time to see London without the heaving mass of people and cars that constantly choked it. The heat of the day had subsided and there was a gentle breeze blowing off the river. They passed a few other couples walking in the opposite direction, also enjoying a midnight stroll. Arya would occasionally think of something else to say about the exhibition, but mostly they walked on in companionable silence. Eventually they had to turn away from the river to flag down a black cab.

Away from the river, the night seemed darker and even quieter. They had only taken a dozen steps when a huge figure peeled away from the shadows in front of them. It took Arya a few seconds to realise that the black bulk looming above them was a giant of a man. Jaqen was already in front of her, pushing her firmly back behind him.

The huge mountain of a man threatened them with a menacing urgency.

"Best get out of my way little man. I don't know who you are and I don't care! It's the Stark bitch I'm here for!"

Jaqen remained shockingly, icily calm.

"This man knows who _you_ are Ser and this girl shall not be harmed."

The giant took a step forward into a circle of light cast by an overhead light and revealed himself. To Arya he looked like some massive Berserker warrior, all beard and hair and manic, staring eyes. To add to his already terrifying appearance, she could see he was splattered from head to foot with dried blood.

It was obvious to Arya the giant had taken some kind of drug. No sane person has eyes as wild as that.

"Be careful, he's on something!" she hissed as a warning to Jaqen, trying to pull him back, but Jaqen stood his ground.

"Last chance little man!" the giant sneered. "I'm taking the wolf bitch. It makes no odds to me if I have to go through you to get her."

"You shall not pass." Jaqen vowed.

Arya screamed in terror as the man mountain lunged at Jaqen, but her friend was faster than Arya thought possible. He had spun and, still keeping Arya shielded behind him, was well out of reach by the time The Mountain's momentum carried him forward. The huge man staggered gracelessly, trying to halt himself and turn around. He was immensely huge and powerful but the trade off was apparently a lack of mobility. He lumbered, rather than spun around, leaving Jaqen plenty of time to ready himself for the next attack.

Arya knew she should run, but fear rooted her to the spot.

The Mountain wasn't going to make the same mistake again and advanced slowly and deliberately towards them this time. They were being backed against a wall and Arya realised that if they both tried to run, he was likely to catch at least one of them.

He spread his massive arms out wide, obviously intending to prevent them from escaping.

Jaqen whispered "go under…now!"

Obeying Jaqen's order, she ducked down under one of the giant's arms. Arya thought she had made it, until she was wrenched back by her ponytail. The pain was excruciating. She screamed louder and harder than she ever had in her life as he yanked her backwards by her hair until he could grab her around the waist with his other thick arm. She heard him grunt with satisfaction as he trapped her against his torso. She gagged on the stench of stale sweat, piss and blood that clung to him. He twisted the hair of her ponytail around his fist causing her to scream out in pain again.

"Got you now you Baratheon bitch!" he rasped triumphantly.

His vice like hold on her hair made any attempt at escape impossible.

Jaqen slowly and deliberately issued a warning.

"Release this girl or die."

"You think?" The Mountain scoffed. "You make one move little man and the 'She Wolf' gets it." To emphasise his threat, he jerked Arya's head backwards, causing her to cry out in pain again.

Jaqen raised his arms wide above his head, fingers stretched as wide as possible. Then he raised his face to the sky, eyes rolling back in his head so only the whites were visible.

Arya heard The Mountain snigger behind her. It was an incongruous sound coming from such a huge man.

"Going to curse me are you?" The Mountain sneered.

Jaqen gave no reply, but Arya saw him begin to shake. 'Shake' wasn't really the right word as he was obviously in complete control. 'Vibrate' was probably more accurate. A glow began to appear around him as he stood, arms and head upraised in the dark. It rapidly got brighter and stronger, until the only way Arya could describe it was as a shining halo of light.

"What the fuck…?" the mountain bellowed.

The aurora around Jaqen was now so blindingly bright that Arya had to turn her head away.

"Close your eyes Arya." She heard Jaqen say, but it wasn't a shout or an order, it was if he had calmly whispered it against her ear, yet he was standing six feet away.

She screwed her eyes tight shut, but she was still aware of the searing light through her closed eye lids. Not only was the light searing, but she could feel heat radiating from Jaqen, like a hot wind blowing on her face.

The mountain was cursing; his ranted obscenities growing more panicked as the heat and light intensified. Suddenly he let out a sharp cry of pain, as if he had been burnt, jerking away suddenly from Arya's body and frantically trying to unwind his hand from her hair.

"You're burning me bitch!" he hissed, twisting her head this way and that as he desperately tried to disentangle his hand from her hair.

The heat was so intense now that Arya felt as if she was standing in front of a furnace, but whatever she was feeling, The Mountain seemed to be experiencing tenfold. He started screaming with pain and fear. Arya had never heard a man scream before and it was a sickening, terrifying sound.

When his hand finally wrenched free of her hair, she collapsed to her knees, seeming to be under the blast of scorching heat. The giant had no such relief as his screams were becoming more desperate. Arya could hear him begging "_Don't burn me! For the love of God please don't burn me!" _

Unable to stand the man's screaming and begging for his life anymore, she heard herself shrieking "_Make it stop! Jaqen please make it stop!_"

As if someone had closed the furnace door, the heat and the light instantly diminished to nothing.

She looked up at Jaqen first. He was grinning manically; arms still out stretched and now _his _eyes were wild, as if he was drunk on power. Tearing her eyes away from him, she turned to the felled giant. He was slumped against the wall holding what was left of his face together with burned hands. It looked as if one side had been burned almost off and Arya though she could see the white of the man's skull through the charred flesh. Un-natural white flames still licked and darted randomly over his body as he lay groaning.

"Let's get out of here!" Arya begged, clambering to her knees and trying to drag the still manic Jaqen away. But he wouldn't move. It wasn't until he closed his rolling white eyes, exhaled slowly and re-opened them, that she saw Jaqen's calm golden eyes staring back at her again.

Now he followed when she pulled at his arm. Without wanting to look again at the torched man, Arya stumbled away, dragging Jaqen behind her.

When they turned a corner and The Mountain was out of sight, she pushed Jaqen back up against the wall, yelling at him

"We need to get as far away from here, as fast as we can!"

"Then this man shall drive." He said calmly, looking at her with those enigmatic golden eyes. He was acting as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't called down some supernatural fire and burned a man half to death.

"Drive what? You've got a parked right here have you?" she shouted sarcastically.

"A girl should not mock a man."

Jaqen walked over to the nearest parked car. It was a battered old ford fiesta. "Any car will suffice."

"Any car huh?"

Jaqen nodded.

"Well, I'd rather choose that one." She pointed to the next car along - a sporty white Audi.

Jaqen placed his palm flat against the driver's window of the Audi. He rested his other hand on the door handle. He closed his eyes, exhaled deeply and when he opened them again, the car door opened in his hand. No alarm went off, no key had been used and Arya was beginning to shake with shock.

Jaqen got into the car and started the engine. Arya didn't see how he did it, but she was sure he didn't have a key. He cocked his head and stared at her out of the window. As she didn't move, he pressed the button to slowly lower the window.

"A girl said she desired to get away from here. A girl should get in the car."

Arya grabbed the door and collapsed into the passenger seat, shaking uncontrollably.

Jaqen drove smoothly away as Arya turned the heater up to full and switched the heated seat on to the highest setting. Through chattering teeth she gasped accusingly

"You were going to kill him weren't you?"

"Yes" he said simply.

"Why?" Arya demanded.

He shrugged and for a second she thought he was going to say "because I can.", but instead he replied

"_Valar Morghulis"_

She knew what it mean – 'all men must die', Gendry even had it tattooed on his arm, but what kind of answer was that? She glared at him.

"Does a girl not remember?" he wondered softly.

"Remember what?" she yelled. They'd been attacked, he'd nearly murdered a man in some unbelievably violent way and now he was speaking in riddles.

He looked at her sideways with those calm, golden eyes.

"Remember what!?" she yelled again in her confusion and frustration.

"Remember Harrenhal." He said simply.

What kind of answer was that? Another bloody riddle.

"Of course I remember Harrenhal!" she snapped. "We went there every year on our school trip. Stop talking in riddles!" her shock was giving way to anger.

"School?" He chuckled. "No. This man and this girl will go now and a girl will remember."

"Go to Harrenhal now?" she scoffed. "It's one o'clock in the morning!"

He ignored her and kept driving. She could have demanded he take her home, but she didn't feel like facing Brienne or anyone else tonight. So she hunkered down in the warm bucket seat of the Audi and watched night time London pass her by.

-o-

Arya woke up with a start. She was aware the car had stopped. She blinked her eyes and looked around. It was pitch black outside, but she could see a lit sign proclaiming

"Welcome to Harrenhal. The Riverland's premier tourist attraction."

"Shit!" she groaned and stretched out in the passenger seat, feeling her joints protest at being forced to move after hours in the one position.

Jaqen wasn't in the car. She slowly got out and started shivering again in the chill night air.

Jaqen appeared from nowhere and wrapped his jacket around her shoulders. That didn't stop her shivering and he began vigorously rubbing her arms and back, warming up her sleeping muscles. She was grateful for his body heat as he pressed himself against her and she slowly began to warm up.

"Thanks Jaqen" she said eventually, when her teeth stopped chattering. "What are we going to do now we're here?"

"A girl will see." He smiled. Taking her hand, led her off into the darkness away from the main gate.

Once they were away from the spot lights on the welcome sign, she could see that the night sky was full of stars. It looked like a Winterfell sky. When you were in London it was easy to forget that there were millions, even billions of twinkling stars up there. Silhouetted against the sky were the five towers of Harrenhal. Five black, broken fingers standing proud against the starry background.

"Does a girl remember the towers?"

"You mean from school?"

He frowned. "No."

This was where their school trips inevitably ended up, so she'd been told the names of the towers often enough back then, but she hadn't thought about them for years. Was he asking her or testing her? She racked her brains…

"The Wailing Tower" she pointed to the north most tower. "Everyone knows that one because of the noise the wind makes. The Tower of Ghosts of course and Kingspyre Tower – where Harren the Black and his sons were supposed to have died."

The tourist myth was that they were burned by Dragons and the collapsed stone on one side did make the tower look like a giant, black, wax candle melted by fire. The gift shop had always done good business selling dragon tea towels, T shirts and toys. But she couldn't remember the names of the other two towers.

"The Tower of Dread and the Widow's Tower." He finished for her.

"Does a girl believe in ghosts?"

She laughed, but he looked deadly serious and waited for her to answer his question.

"No of course not!"

He pursed his lips and looked at her as if he was annoyed by her dismissive response to his question.

"This girl is quick to dismiss what a girl does not understand."

If it had been anyone else but Jaqen and if it had been anywhere else but here, she would have laughed and walked off. But it _was _Jaqen and it _was_ here, so she reluctantly sighed

"I don't know Jaqen. Do you believe in ghosts?"

Calm golden eyes met her tired grey eyes.

"This man can show you."

The moon was almost full and they had no difficulty in seeing where they were going as they followed the wire fence down the slope until it stopped and the castle walls began. Jaqen he kept going, leading her down, following the curve of the rock.

"Where are we going?" she hissed.

"Into the castle."

"But it's all locked up. They wouldn't leave a way open so you could just walk in!"

"A girl doesn't remember, but this man does."

Jaqen led her on and down without any hesitation until they came to a steep gorge. Arya could hear water flowing somewhere in the distance.

Jaqen gripped her hand tighter, leading her further down the slope, keeping close to the castle wall, navigating around trees and bushes, until he suddenly stopped, causing her to bump into his back.

"Here!" he whispered.

"Where?" Arya wondered, unable to see a thing.

"Many secret ways in and out of Harrenhal remain."

Before she could protest, he was on the move again, ducking down and through bushes and into a fissure in the great stone wall. They had to crouch and turn sideways to get through. The walls were pressing uncomfortably on Arya, but already she could see a glimmer of light ahead. In moments they were through and out into an area that, at one time, might have had a roof, but was now open to the stars.

"Where are we?" she gasped.

"A girl will see."

He led her though a few more rooms, all the while with only sky above them. Eventually they came to an incongruous metal fire escape door. She could tell her wasn't expecting that. He paused for a moment before closing his eyes and touching the door. It miraculously opened for him, just as the car had. No alarms, no bursting of locks; it just opened.

He felt around inside the door and found a light switch. After the dark and stars it was strange to be in a whitewashed room with a ceiling and a bright artificial light.

This was obviously the tourist part of the castle. As he led the way, she saw a printed sign with an arrow pointing to the kitchens. He seemed to know exactly where he was going and didn't even glance at the arrows as they took several twists and turns until eventually they reached the kitchens. The main room was huge with three massive fireplaces along one wall. Arya remembered this room from innumerable school trips and she was surprised to see it hadn't changed at all in the eight or so years since she had last visited.

It was done up as a modern interpretation of a medieval kitchen. There was a dusty model of a stag lying on one of the large wooden kitchen tables, a huge iron cauldron hanging in one of the fireplaces with some faded red and orange paper flames under it and a very unrealistic wax work of a kitchen maid with a wonky wig. She smiled as she remembered how she and Gendry used to dare each other to try and knock that very same wig off as they filed passed, watched by their teacher. He had managed it once and been made to sit beside the teacher at the front of the bus on the way back as punishment.

Jaqen snorted with derision as he took in the room.

He didn't linger long, taking her thorough another door, into a passage that wasn't lit. The ceiling was low here and got lower still. The ceiling above was stepped and Arya presumed they were under a winding staircase.

"Does a girl remember now?" he asked as they came to a halt in the small space.

"Remember what?" Arya asked, exasperated. He had brought her all this way to see the kitchens of a grubby tourist attraction?

He looked mildly puzzled.

"A girl says she does not believe in ghosts so this man will call them memories. This…"he said, gesturing around them "…is the surface of a river. Flowing into it are tributaries, dangers are unseen below the surface. If a pebble is dropped, ripples follow, through the depths, through time. In certain places the ripples are absorbed. Harrenhal is ancient; its rocks are old as time _and Harrenhal remembers._"

Arya gulped.

"Remembers what?" she heard herself asking again, but not really wanting to hear the answer.

"_If a girl wishes to know, the rocks will tell._"

Arya shivered. Jaqen was creeping her out. Was he deliberately trying to scare her?

"A girl must close her eyes _and feel…_"

Arya warily did as she was told, leaning back, resting her head against the cold hard stone and closing her eyes. She tried to push her fingers into the rock, finding tiny fissures in the stone and scraping her nails as she tried to find purchase.

"_A girl must listen to the memories…"_

Arya took a deep breath and tried to relax against the wall. When she listened, she could hear her own heart beating and Jaqen's soft breath in the quiet of the chamber.

"…_memories in the stone." _

She concentrated on the wall behind her, cold, hard, ancient unyielding. She felt the pressure of tons or rock above, imagining the toil and blood spilled by long forgotten stonemasons who lived and died here and she tried to remember.

A thought, or was it a memory, slipped into her mind; _a list_. A murmured list of names, repeated over and over with a vicious hate and desperation for revenge. She tried to catch the names, but it was like trying to catch wisps of smoke in your hand. The harder she tried to focus, the more ethereal they became, dancing away and dissipating before she could catch any definite sound or meaning.

When she opened her eyes again to look at Jaqen, she felt an overwhelming sensation of sadness and isolation.

"_What did a girl see?"_

"I saw a list, only I didn't see it. It wasn't written, it was as if it was whispered to me, but I couldn't catch any of the names."

A slight smile played across Jaqen's lips.

"_Yes, a list. A man can help a girl remember."_

Did she want to remember? If it had ever been a memory, it was filled with pain and longing. If she didn't try now, she knew she would always wonder, so she nodded apprehensively at Jaqen.

"_This girl must not be afraid. The past is a different place. Memories in stone are only echoes that cannot harm a girl now."_

Her heart was racing as Jaqen gently closed her eyes with warm, gentle finger tips. She tried to relax against the wall and fell the ancient memories jealously guarded by cold stone. Jaqen's fingers played over her face, his thumbs stroking over her eyebrows as he cupped her face in his hands. She was aware of his body pressing against hers and, somehow it wasn't a surprise when she felt his warm, soft lips brush against hers. It felt inevitable; as if she had always known it would happen from the first time she'd met him.

He whispered those old, familiar words softly into her mouth

_Valar Morghulis_

Then his lips pressed down upon hers, as if sealing the words between them. The list that had been swirling around in the mist took form, became real and she heard a child's voice intone

Weese,

Dunsen,

Polliver,

Raff the Sweetling,

The Tickler and the Hound.

Ser Gregor,

Ser Amory,

Ser Ilyn,

Ser Merhn,

King Joffrey,

Queen Cersi.

It had been so long and some of the names were all but forgotten, yet some of them were still known to her and how could that be? Joffrey a king? Cersei a Queen? Wave after wave of nightmare images were drawn from the stone and channelled through Jaqen; _Bran as a cripple, Jon leaving, her family scattered, her father's death, fear for Robb, hope for the King in the North, fear for her own life, running, hiding, Gendry._ All rushing by like an old movie reel being rewound too fast; snapshots of events she couldn't remember but triggering feelings and emotions as raw and powerful as if they had been real.

And as Jaqen's kiss deepened she saw him, or rather _knew him_ for what he truly was; a weapon of vengeance, a sword to be wielded, a burning white flame that nothing living could withstand, all contained in the vessel of a faceless man that called himself Jaqen. He was an angel of death, sweeping over Harrenhal, bringing retribution without remorse, burning white and pure and leaving death in his wake.

As she realised what he truly was, she pushed him away with all her strength. Their eyes meet briefly before she fled. In that fleeting contact she knew he saw her for what she was and what she had been, just as she knew him.

She ran sobbing, as ancient, buried memories returned, crashing into her consciousness on wave after wave. Was this really happening? What had Jaqen done to her? Were these false memories he had somehow implanted in her mind?

Foremost and almost totally overwhelming, was the death of her father. An indescribable feeling of helplessness and loss rushed into her heart to fill the special place he had occupied.

Then fear, anger, vows of vengeance as her friends died and the family she loved was ripped from her. Then the realisation and acceptance that she was a wolf; that she was a Stark wolf. She was a link in a chain, forged in blood, stretching back over centuries. The same blood burned in her veins that had burned in theirs, the same blood as her father's. She felt the ancient strength of her ancestors and knew the blood of the wolf ran in her veins. The strength and blood of her ancestor's pack that would sustain her when there was nothing else left.

And through it all, not raging and thrashing like all these other emotions, but calm and steady as a rock in that river, always waiting for her, was Gendry. With Him she felt safe. She wanted to leave here with Him and together they would find a home and family. He was part of her pack too and she had been too blind to see it.

She was still blinded by tears. As she staggered to a halt, she _knew _all this pain and loss wasn't real, couldn't be real. _Her father was alive, Bran could walk, Robb wasn't a King._ All that horror and death had never happened, had it?

She felt as if she had been given a second chance. She still had time to go to her Father and talk to him, tell him how much she loved him and make things right between them. A panic rose again in her chest when she imagined never having the chance to tell him again how much she loved him. She could imagine the guilt she would carry with her until the end of her days if their last contact was that awful day at Winterfell.

And Gendry, she had to tell him too. She wouldn't let him leave her again. She had to make him see that his place was by her side, just as hers was at his.

Arya had no idea how long she wandered, sobbing, but it was almost morning when she left the corridors of Harrenhal. Pale, weak sunlight was spreading into the sky from the east and she somehow knew exactly where Jaqen would be.

Looking up at the Wailing Tower, she saw him on a raised walkway, leaning against the rock. For an instant she saw him as had been, ragged and filthy, before that image dissipated like mist, just as the list had done. Then she saw Jaqen the artist, in his crumpled linen suit, the same enigmatic smile on his face.

"I want to leave."

He only nodded and made his way down towards her, red and white hair streaming down his back, shining in the morning sun.

They never spoke during the journey back. She stole looks across at him as he drove, finding it hard to reconcile Jaqen the man, the owner of the gallery of black and white, with the vision she had in Harrenhal. She wanted to believe she had imagined it all.

When he stopped the Audi outside her flat she spoke to him for the first time since he'd kissed her.

"Will I ever see you again?" she asked as she climbed out of the car.

He shrugged and that enigmatic smile spread over his face.

"Have you learned nothing Arya Stark?" He laughed, sounding both playful and mocking.

Another riddle.

She watched him drive away and was only interrupted from her revere by one of Renly's Rainbow Guards clearing his throat and calling her name.

"Miss Stark. Glad to see you're back. We've to let you know that due to an…uh…incident, the protection level has been increased again. Could you please make sure you let us know where you are at all times?"

She groaned. "Ok, but where's Brienne?"

The guard exchanged wary glances with the companion beside him, before replying

"We don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know? Is she ok?" She asked, panic rising in her chest.

"We don't believe she is in any imminent danger."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"She's been with Jaime Lannister for two days and, beyond telling Renly she's ok, we've heard nothing else."

Arya shook her head. Well, there was nothing she could do about Brienne and Jaime bloody Lannister, but that was very odd. Brienne had been with him for two days and the rest of the Rainbow Guard didn't seem to know why? It was weird, but she had no doubt that if Renly was really concerned, he would have done something about it before now. That was one thing you could say about the Baratheons; they took care of their own.

She now had some people of _her _own to take care of. Hurrying into her flat, she stripped off all her clothes, throwing them on the floor and standing under a scalding hot shower, trying to wash away the terrible feelings that Harrenhal and the incident with The Mountain had left her with. She didn't want to forget _all _of those feelings though.

When she couldn't stand the heat any more, she wrapped herself in a robe and sat down to make the calls. Her hand was trembling as she dialled the first number. It rang out so many times; she thought he wasn't going to answer.

"Yes?"

Her father's voice was flat and emotionless as he answered the phone. Even hearing him speak that one word, truly knowing he wasn't dead broke a damn of emotion in her. She immediately started sobbing; she still had the chance to tell him she loved him,

"Arya, Arya!" he gasped. "What's wrong?"

She could only sob harder as she listened to the concern, then fear in this voice.

"Tell me what's wrong Arya?! Talk to me!"

"I'm….I'm….ok Dad" she sobbed through her tears. "I just wanted to hear your voice… and tell you I love you." Her voice cracked with emotion as she said the words 'I love you' out loud to her Father. She did love him so much and she was so grateful that he was still here to hear her say it.

Silence on the end of the phone, then a long slow sigh.

"I love you too Arya. Now tell me what's wrong."

Hearing him say he still loved her too made the tears come again, but this time she managed to explain to him in gasped breaths through her sobs

"I had this dream and you were dead. I hadn't got the chance to tell you how much I love you and I…I thought I would never hear your voice again. Oh Dad, I'm so glad you are alive and we need to make things right between us before it's too late."

Another long silence.

"I will always love you Arya. Until you have children yourself you'll never understand how much. It's because I love you so much that I have to protect you."

"I know Daddy, I know…but you can't be responsible for us all for ever. I'm a woman now and so is Sansa. Robb and Jon are grown men. We're not just your kids anymore and you can't protect us all forever. We've got to make our own decisions and _we've_ got to live with the consequences, not you Daddy"

A heavy sigh, before her father groaned "You won't understand until you have children yourself."

She had to make him see that loving his children also meant letting them live their own lives.

"Do you not understand that you're going to loose us all if you don't _let us go?_

When you trying to force us to stay on your terms - you just push us further away."

_Silence._

"Can I come and see you Daddy?"

"Of course. Any time." She could tell he was smiling on the other end of the phone. She took a deep breath steeling herself for the next bit

"Can I bring Gendry?"

_She heard her father's sharp intake of breath._

"I'm going to be with him whether you approve or not, so you either accept it, or you won't see me or your grandchildren."

A long pause before he groaned "Fine. Bring him. And Jon too if he'll come."

"Thanks Daddy. You know I love you so much don't you?"

"Yes, and I love you too Arya."

"I'll speak to Jon and I'll get back to you then, ok?"

A rather reluctant "Ok"

"Love you Dad."

"Love you too."

Her heart was singing with happiness. She felt lighter and more carefree than she had in weeks as she called Jon's mobile. No answer. That wasn't surprising; Jon was crap at answering his phone. She left him an excited voice mail asking him to call.

She phoned Gendry next. Again it rang and rang before a voice she didn't immediately recognise wearily said "Hi, Arya."

Instantly on guard, she demanded "Who's this?"

"Margaery."

What the hell was _she _doing answering Gendry's phone? There was a lot of background noise, so at least it didn't sound as if they were anywhere quiet and alone together.

"Let me speak to Gendry." She knew she sounded sharp, but she was annoyed.

"Oh my God, I don't know how to tell you this Arya, so I'm just going to have to say it…we're all at the hospital. Something has happened to Edric."

_Shock, then panic. _

"Is Gendry ok? Is Jon there? Can I speak to them?"

"They're all in with Edric now; Gendry, Jon, Loras and Renly. They've phoned for his mother Arya. They don't think he's going to make it."

Arya couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"I'm sure Gendry would want you here. He's absolutely devastated. We're at Maester's Hospital. You know where that is?"

"Yeah, I know. I'll be there quick as I can."

"Ok. See you soon."

Arya hung up and slumped into the chair. How could she think everything was going so right, only for it immediately to go so wrong? The tears came again and this time they were for Edric and his mother. Then she cried for herself. She thought she'd lost her father, but had been given a second chance to tell him she loved him. Then she kept crying because Edric and his mother might never get that chance.

**I need to warn you guys that I may have to take a break soon. I promise it will be no more than one week, but if there's no post one Friday I want you to know it's because I need a rest and time to gather my thoughts, rather than that I couldn't be bothered. We're close to the end and I want to finish this well, rather than rush it out. I hope you'll understand and bear with me…**


	27. Chapter 27 - Lannisters & Liars

**Chapter 27**

**Lannisters & Liars**

**Back again. Happy Friday everyone! Ok, no more days off until I'm done. Here we go…**

Arya couldn't believe that, almost exactly a month later, she was back at Maester's Hospital, walking out of the same lift, onto the same floor, heading for the same room.

She had been surprised at how upsetting walking back into the hospital had been. She had tried notto think about the night Gendry got bitten, the night he and Jon had left her, but as soon as she got out of the car and looked up at the Hospital; all grey concrete and dull windows, memories of that harrowing night came flooding back.

That awful 'hospital' smell had hit her as soon as she set foot over the threshold; the smell of stale coffee from the 24 hour cafe, disinfectant, over cooked hospital food and most of all, desperation. If someone had asked her before what 'desperation' smelled like, she wouldn't have had a clue, but she certainly knew now.

There were as many Baratheon security guards on duty now as there had been that night. Two of them had brought her here and their car radio had been constantly buzzing with hurried communications. There were two more black suits standing outside the hospital entrance, trying to look inconspicuous. Perhaps Arya wouldn't have noticed before, wouldn't even have looked twice at two grim looking men lingering around a hospital entrance, but she sure as hell noticed now.

Two more at the lifts, another two when she got out on the fourth floor and all of them acknowledged her presence with almost imperceptible nods. She realised she was part of the pack now, whether she liked it or not. That wild mountain man had been right last night – she was a Baratheon wolf bitch. She hadn't even met Edric yet, but as Gendry's half-brother, he was part of her pack too.

Harrenhal had awakened terrible feelings in her and thinking about Edric meant thinking about revenge. She still didn't know what the hell had happened. She'd never believed in ghosts, reincarnation or any of that stuff, but it felt too real to be some kind of trance or trick.

Could she really have been that vengeful? Scheming, dreaming, planning; wanting to kill until everyone on that long list was dead? What had happened to make her like that? What had they done to a child to make her sole reason for living a burning need for revenge? Was it the death of her father and her friends? Or was it more?

The thought that she could still become that person terrified her. She wanted to dismiss it all as a dream, wanted to believe that Jaqen had somehow hypnotised her, but she couldn't shake the feeling that he had opened her eyes to something she already suspected, something that had always been there, but she had refused to see.

Life should be so good. She had her family, her father was still alive, she had a man she loved – had always loved, yet everything seemed to be so dreadful and so complicated. She wanted that little flat with the couch and the TV on a Friday night. She wanted boring, wanted routine; didn't want this.

Arya took a deep breath and walked towards the high dependency unit, remembering the last time she had walked down this corridor. She had walked in with Jon and Brienne, thinking all she had to do was bring Gendry home. Instead, she had walked out alone with Brienne and a broken heart.

Now, a month later, she was ready to open her heart to Gendry again, Werewolf and all.

The sight that greeted her, as she was shown into the waiting room, threatened to break her fragile heart again.

Jon was sitting with his head in his hands and Danni's head resting on his shoulder, while Gendry and Margaery Tyrell stood locked in an embrace, in the middle of the room.

Only Danni seeing her and shrieking "Arya!" caused Gendry and Margaery to jump guiltily apart.

Arya didn't know whether to punch him or punch her or turn around and run.

Before she had made up her mind, Danni had her in a perfumed hug. Arya couldn't tear her eyes away from Gendry who was looking anywhere but at her. God, he looked like shit.

Arya was vaguely aware of Danni kissing her cheeks and babbling on about how much she had missed London, while Arya felt as cold and emotionless as a rock.

"I was just… "Gendry muttered, before stopping abruptly as he finally looked at her and saw the expression on her face.

"Let's talk outside." He said firmly, steering her back towards the door.

Once they were alone, out of earshot of the security guards, he began his apology, running his hands through his hair, with a desperate look on his face.

"That wasn't what it looked like…"

Feeling numb, she just looked at him. He needed a shave, his hair was a mess, he looked like he had slept in his clothes and there were dark shadows under his bloodshot eyes.

"…we'd just come out of Edric's room – Jon and I – and we'd just got bad news."

Gendry rubbed his thumb and forefinger across his temple, the strain of the past eighteen hours etched onto his face.

"Margaery was just trying to help I suppose. It was only a hug between friends."

Friends? Arya didn't believe him, but he was obviously upset and it didn't seem appropriate to start screaming at him in a hospital corridor while his half brother lay a few rooms away, critically ill.

She swallowed her anger and asked him how Edric was.

He raked both hands through his hair and took a while to answer, choosing his words carefully.

"They can't operate. There are too many haemorrhages in his brain; subdural, epidural; I don't pretend to understand what the doctor's are saying but basically the fucker stamped on his head Arya." Gendry looked lost and bewildered, repeating "he stamped on Edric's head" as if he was trying to comprehend what had happened and why anyone would do such a brutal thing.

Arya flung herself at him and hugged him, just as Margaery had a few moments before. She wanted to comfort him, but she could think of any words to convey what she felt. She unexpectedly experienced a sudden affinity with Margaery, who must have found herself in the same position.

"I had to face his mother. He was safe in Dragonstone and we were supposed to keep him safe here. I had to look his mother in the eye and all I could say was sorry."

His voice was beginning to break and all Arya could do was hold him tighter. They stood like that for a while. He seemed to be glad to simply hold her too. Eventually she had to ask

"Do you know who did it to him?"

"Who else but the fucking Lannisters? The CCTV was switched off somehow, the concierge for the building left his desk unattended for 30 minutes - bought off with Lannister gold no doubt, but the guy that found Edric, a pizza delivery guy, was able to give a description. He was arriving as a blood splattered man was leaving. The pizza guy said it wasn't the blood that initially attracted his attention, but the size of the guy. He described him as 'A Mountain'; unbelievably tall and wide, big beard, looked like he was high on something."

Arya blurted out "I saw him too!"

Gendry stiffened and pulled back, so he could look at her face, steely determination written all over his.

"Where and when? This could be really important."

She hesitated. She hadn't got all of her thoughts straight about last night yet herself and didn't know how she was going to explain it to anyone else, but she had to try,

"About one this morning, on the embankment of the Thames. About a mile from the Tait Gallery. He was exactly as you described; wild eyed, blood spattered, freakishly tall. It's too much of a coincidence. It has to be the same man."

"Did he touch you? God help me, if he laid a finger on you…"

"He…he said he was there for me. He called me your bitch and said he was taking me…"

Arya couldn't stop the tears from coming. Saying it out loud made it seem more real than it had at the time. Perhaps she'd been in denial; trying to pretend to herself that it hadn't happened, that Jaqen had tricked her. The same thing that happened to Edric would have happened to her if Jaqen not been there to protect her. She would be lying in the hospital now, her life ebbing away too. Gendry would have had to look her mother in the eye too and say 'sorry'.

It had been too long a night. She was too tired to be able to deal with this the way she should. That brave little girl from Harrenhal wouldn't have sobbed uncontrollably against Gendry's chest. She would have added another name to her list and planned her revenge.

"Tell me what he did to you Arya!" Gendry's urgent, agonised, demand, forced her to choke back her sobs

"Nothing…nothing. Jaqen stopped him. God, I don't even know what Jaqen did to him. Burned him or something. It was like your Werewolf thing – something unnatural, something I just don't know…"

"Christ! Thank God for Jaqen. I'll need to thank him next time I see him. Did he kill the fucker?"

"No" she sniffed. "At least he wasn't dead when we left him. I made Jaqen stop – I think he was going to kill him and I made him stop, but I didn't know about Edric. If I'd know I wouldn't have interfered. I'm so sorry…"

"What have you got to be sorry about? You couldn't have known. You're safe and that's all I could have asked, but I have to admit, I never thought Jaqen had it in him."

"I don't know what he's got in him and I don't want to know. I just want all this to go away and for Edric to be alright and for you and me to be together" she sobbed.

"I know babe. That's what I want too, but somebody's got to pay for this first."

She had never heard that steely, lethal determination in his voice before. More violence was the last thing she wanted, but she knew Renly and Loras wouldn't rest until Edric have been avenged. The Lannisters would feel the full force of those Baratheon words – 'Ours is the Fury'.

She was still clinging onto Gendry, desperate to feel safe in his arms, when Loras burst out of one of the side doors yelling

"Lannisters incoming, get your arses in gear now!"

Arya was speechless with shock. Loras' face was a grim mask.

Suddenly everything was happening at once. Loras was barking orders. Jon and Renly came bursting out of other rooms and Gendry was pulling her back towards the waiting room as Loras was ordering Jon to stay with Danni - to make sure she was safe. Even amongst the chaos Arya noticed only Danni was mentioned. Why Danni? Why didn't Loras mention his sister?

A middle aged, anxious and bewildered looking lady stood in an open doorway. Arya only caught a glimpse of the woman and behind her someone on a bed surrounded by life support machinery, before she was hustled passed by Gendry. She heard the lady being persuaded to go back into the room by Renly.

The two guards at the lifts were ordered to pull back by Loras. The last thing Arya saw before Jon closed the visiting room door was Gendry, Loras and Renly forming a barrier across the corridor; three pairs of blazing eyes, six sets of obsidian claws unsheathed, determined to make sure no Lannister made it through their line.

-o-

"Lannisters here?"

If anyone other than Loras had told him, Gendry wouldn't have believed them.

Renly was just as incredulous.

"Lannisters – you're sure?"

"Fucking A. They've got Brienne, and three of our guards are down. It sounds like chaos down there and we've got a party of four headed our way." Loras had pulled the earpiece out of his ear so it was resting on his shoulder. The three of them could hear panicked, desperate voices yelling for back up and medical assistance through the device. Loras showed no hint that his men's plight had affected him. He was as calm and controlled as ever, giving them orders.

"You know what we have to do. _Nothing_ and I mean _nothing _gets along this corridor. I'll not fail Edric a second time. Gendry you ready for this?"

He answered with a growl. His wolf was ready. As soon as Loras had burst out of that door, everything had changed. It was as if he had become a passenger in his own body, detached, observing his inner wolf take control and do what came instinctively; _protect and defend_. Responses honed and perfected over thousands of generations of wolves; hunting, fighting, surviving, had taken over.

The Lannisters were nothing to him; only prey to be taken down. Brienne was nothing to him. What did matter lay behind him; Arya, Edric, Danni and Jon and he'd die to make sure they lived. Especially Arya and his only regret would be that she didn't have his baby in her belly and that no part of him that would live on in her.

They watched the lights above the lift steadily rise; floors one, two, three and four.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The lift doors opened agonisingly slowly. He could have been in there ripping and tearing and killing before the occupants knew what had hit them, but Loras was beside him, demanding he hold - so he held.

The sight that greeted them when the doors were finally open was not what Gendry had expected. The dwarf marched out first, black plastic Tazer gun held aloft, as if he were brandishing a sword. Brienne and Jaime Lannister were next, both sporting facial bruises a heavyweight boxer would have been proud of. He immediately noticed that Brienne wasn't cuffed or shackled in anyway. A small, hooded figure bought up the rear.

"So the gang's all here?" Jaime observed dryly as he looked the Baratheon line up and down.

"No, not quite all." Tyrion corrected his brother "There's no Stannis. I've always wanted to get to know Stannis. I refuse to believe he can be quite as miserable as you make out Renly!" Gendry began to realise why they called him 'The Imp'.

"This isn't the time for jokes Tyrion" Renly snarled. "What the fuck are you lot doing here?"

"Other then shooting my men" Loras added menacingly.

"Nonsense!" Tyrion chided "There was no shooting, all I did was Tazer them in the balls!" he made a jabbing upward movement with the Tazer, illustrating his technique. "My height does have some advantages. Few I grant you, but it always pleases me when I discover a new one!"

"And you Brienne, I never thought…"

"We've brought you someone!" Brienne interrupted Renly before he could finish. She moved to the side, revealing the hooded fourth person who reached up and pushed the oversized hood back with small, pale, quivering hands.

"Myrcella!" Loras and Renly both exclaimed together.

Gendry wouldn't have recognised her from the funeral. The beautiful, sassy, blonde girl was gone and instead he saw a red eyed, dishevelled, timid creature.

"Please…I …need see him." She whispered.

Renly sagged visibly, the aggressive, fighting stance now abandoned.

"You didn't have to go to these lengths. You just had to ask Myrcella. How could we deny you?" Renly sighed wearily.

Tyrion took his niece's hand and led her forward,

"Unfortunately it's not quite that simple at our end. _We_ had to make sure that she got here safely, indeed, my dear sister is so concerned for her daughter's safety, we had to…let's say…_liberate her_ from her mother's house." Tyrion smirked.

"You know someone's going to pay for this" Loras snarled. "I hear Gregor Clegane was the one."

Gendry also growled at the mention of his name. He wanted revenge for Edric and for Arya.

"I don't think you need to bother with him." Tyrion waved his stubby hand dismissively. "Someone appears to have got to him first and done your work for you in a most ingenious fashion; burnt half the skin off his body, but somehow only from the left side – a most intriguing trick and it has an element of poetic justice about it too don't you think? Considering what Gregor did to his brother."

Renly and Loras exchanged a surprised glance, but to Gendry, Tyrion was only confirming what he had already heard from Arya.

"Pleased as I am to hear that, if he's still alive, it's not enough." Loras snarled.

Tyrion bowed to Loras in a rather dramatic fashion.

"We'll not stand in your way if that is what you want, but would a life time of torture not be a more fitting punishment? If he was half mad before, he's undoubtedly quite mad now. By all accounts, Gregor believes he has suffered God's vengeance at the hands of an angel. Can't get any madder than that can you? And besides, why shoot the messenger? If you really want vengeance, you should cut the head off the snake…or in this case _the lion_."

"Tywain?" Loras snorted. "We've been after him for years but can't even get close enough to catch a whiff of that gold he apparently shits."

Tyrion grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"What if you were offered a way to get to him? You're not the only ones appalled by this attack you know and I have other reasons…"

"Why should we trust you, you little Lannister fuck?" Gendry spat.

Renly clasped his nephew's shoulder, to calm him down and hold him back.

"I think this needs some discussion. Will you walk this way Tyrion? You will have safe passage for as long as everyone else in your party behaves themselves." He glared pointedly at Brienne, who returned his glare with one of her own.

"Will you join us brother?" Tyrion inquired of Jaime.

"I'd rather be spared the details." His older brother drawled.

Tyrion nodded and gallantly swept his arm forward, indicating Myrcella should proceed first.

Renly and Gendry moved aside, to let Myrcella through, but when Gendry didn't move aside far enough to allow Tyrion to waddle through, the dwarf brandished the Tazer at Gendry's crotch, mimicking Gendry's growl and causing the new Lord Baratheon to take an involuntary step backwards, much to Tyrion's delight.

Myrcella was led away by Loras to see Edric and meet his mother. Renly and Tyrion disappeared into one of the empty waiting rooms for their discussion, which left Brienne and Jaime facing Gendry.

"That was quite a show you put on the other night." Jaime remarked casually, as if commenting on the weather "Quite the cocksman aren't you?"

"Why don't you ask your sister? She seems to like Baratheon cock." Gendry snarled.

Brienne clasped a large hand around Jaime's upper arm as he lunged forward to get to Gendry.

"Don't give him an excuse!" she hissed at Jaime, struggling to hold him back, until he accepted the wisdom of her advice and took a step backwards again. Then she asked Gendry sarcastically "What did Arya think of your home movie?"

He'd held it together through the shock of seeing Edric, the rage of discovering what had been done to his half-brother, the arrival of the Lannisters, but he was _this_ close to losing it now. He felt the blood rush through his veins and knew, if he had a mirror, his eyes would have been orange and when he replied it was with an inhumanly deep, vicious growl. Even he didn't recognise the voice that snarled

"She's not seen it and she won't see it. You'll not mention it again – and that's an order Tarth!"

Brienne tilted her chin up boldly and never broke eye contact. She wasn't going to be intimidated by him, but Jaime looked genuinely shocked. From their reactions, Gendry surmised Brienne had seen some Werewolf action before whereas Jaime hadn't.

"I'll not tell her, but it's not because of your threatening me. She needs to hear it _from you._ You owe her that much." Brienne declared defiantly.

When Gendry didn't answer, she yelled at the top of her voice "Arya are you here?"

Arya burst out of the waiting room, passed a surprised Jon, pushed passed Gendry and straight to Brienne. The two women embraced, much to everyone else's surprise.

"My God! What happened to you?" Arya gasped, recoiling as she looked at Brienne's almost closed eye. The eyelid was swollen black and blue, her lip was cut and her face scratched.

"Me and Jaime had us some fun!" Brienne laughed.

Seeing the shock and concern on Arya's face as her eyes flicked from Brienne to Jaime (whose face was in as battered a state as Brienne, with one eye almost closed by swelling too) and back, Brienne joked "don't worry - you should see the other guys!"

Arya didn't laugh, instead muttering "as long as _he _didn't do this to you" while glaring at Jaime.

Jaime made a big show of looking offended. "I've never hit a woman Miss Stark and, I have no intention of starting now!"

Arya seemed unconvinced. When she demanded 'a talk', Brienne invited Jaime to join them. Jaime, smirking delightedly, strutted past Gendry as the two of them followed Arya back into the waiting room.

Gendry was left on his own in the corridor, watching Jaime Lannister's golden arse disappear. Gendry's dislike of the man was cemented when Jaime took a step back, after he had already walked into the room, winked at Gendry with his good eye, and quipped "Girl talk!" He then disappeared back into the room and closed the door.

_That'll be fucking right! _Gendry thought to himself as he strode to the door and invited himself in.

The introductions were still going on…Jaime – Daenerys, Brienne - Margaery, Jaime – Jon and on. Gendry threw himself down on one of the chairs and deliberately stretched his long legs into the centre of the room to cause maximum inconvenience to everyone else. They were all so bloody charming too and Danni was kissing anyone that stood still long enough.

Mercifully Margaery declared her intention to return to Storm's End to finish preparations for Renly's charity ball. Gendry had automatically assumed it would be cancelled in the circumstances, but Renly had apparently already spent close to £200,000 on food and flowers that would spoil if it didn't go ahead tomorrow. He was also told that, as previous years had raised in excess of two million pounds for various children's and soldier's charities (they seemed to be closest to Renly's and Loras' hearts) it _had_ to go ahead, Edric or not.

Jon and Danni also decided to leave. They'd been up all night too and Danni was looking particularly tired and drawn. Gendry did manage to stir himself to say goodbye to them, thank them for their support and tell Jon _again_ to take care of Danni.

"I am so tired." Danni yawned as she bent over to kiss Gendry, giving him another blast of pregnancy hormones "Jon, you must take me to bed!"

Jon rolled his eyes and let go of her hand, deliberately stuffing both of his hands into his pockets. Obviously all wasn't rosy in that garden yet.

That left him alone with Arya, Brienne and Jaime fucking Lannister. He stuffed his hands in his own pockets and glowered at them all.

Arya relayed to her friend and Jaime what Gendry had told her about Edric. Gendry didn't feel the need to elaborate. He hadn't even told Arya that about Loras' plan yet.

Just as Gendry's cracked ribs had miraculously healed after he'd been bitten by his father, Loras thought Edric might have a chance if the doctor's could keep him alive until the full moon. Then they'd have to bite him and see if he survived. Loras had no idea if it would work, but it was the only option they had. Fate seemed to have dealt Gendry a cruel hand. Last full moon he'd been here and been bitten by his father; this full moon he'd be here again, biting his brother. His father had died. Gendry could only hope that his brother didn't.

Gendry half heartedly listened to Brienne fill Arya in on the events of the last few days. All Gendry wanted to do was to make sure Tarth kept her word to keep quiet about Cersi and the Goddamn hotel.

Renly had warned him Jaime would be made to watch, but he'd never said bloody Brienne would be with him. The whole fucking mess had just got a whole lot worse. Renly might trust Brienne, but Gendry sure as hell didn't. He'd hoped he'd get away without having to tell Arya, but it looked that plan had gone out the window. He glared at Brienne. She always seemed to be getting in his way.

They made an odd team; Brienne and Jaime. He was almost middle aged, but didn't look it. Smooth as they come, he had that easy, sophisticated grace that seemed to be handed out free to those born with a silver spoon in their mouth, whereas Brienne wasn't like that at all. Gendry supposed she was about his age, good at what she did, but unsophisticated, rough around the edges and she was huge. Gendry tried to remember if he'd ever come across bigger girls in his life and drew a blank. Ok, she was shorter than he was, but _everyone _was shorter than him, and she wasn't that much shorter. It made him decide he wanted sons. Apparently Stannis had a daughter. Gendry hadn't seen any Baratheon women yet, but he imagined they'd be big girls like Brienne and he doubted they'd be pretty, even with half of Arya's genes. Nope, big strong Baratheon boys would do him fine.

The story Brienne told to Arya was that she had bumped into Jaime after she'd asked him for directions. It reeked of bullshit to Gendry, but Arya seemed to buy it. The two of them had gone for a drink, one thing led to another and a few bars later they'd got into a fight. Jaime had been sitting silently, but now took up the story.

"We should have known really. The bar _was _painted red white and blue - and that was the outside. But we were pretty drunk by then and I've been in worse…"

"Pretty drunk?! I had to hold you up!" Brienne interrupted.

"I don't remember that darling, but I do recall that they didn't like our ordering Gin and Tonics."

"I think it was your refusing to pay for them as they didn't have '_ice and a slice_' that really pissed them off."

"Oh _come on!" _Jaime drawled. "I really don't think that's too much to ask in London. Do you Arya? I mean, _who_ serves G&T _without_ ice and lime?"

Arya shrugged noncommittally and Gendry couldn't believe what he was hearing; the two of them got themselves beaten up over a fucking ice cube and a bit of fruit?!

"You should have seen his face when the barman tried to give him a slice of lemon!" Brienne chortled, nudging Jaime in he ribs, which obviously caused him considerable pain.

"Well, that was the end, or the start I suppose. One of the regulars decided he didn't like _our kind_ in their bar. I only asked the gentleman to define exactly what he meant by that as we're not exactly two peas in a pod are we dear?" Brienne grinned and shook her head "And that was that. He swung, I defended myself…"

"Oh, I think that's stretching it a bit!" Brienne interrupted "Smashing the bottle of Gin over his head was defending yourself?"

"Did you see that bottle?! It wasn't even English Gin! Desperate pubs call for desperate measures."

"So the first local, the one Jaime covered in Gin, had a mate, who decided to wade in. I relieved him of his tray before he could hit Jaime over the head with it and next thing we knew, they're all joining in and we're back to back, fighting them off."

"Looks like some of them landed a few lucky punches though doesn't it?" Gendry snorted. Judging by the state of their faces, it had been more than a few.

"Oh, that was later."

"Later?" Arya yelped. There was more?

"We'd left that pub..."

"Got chucked out!"

"Ok, we'd got _chucked out _of that pub and while we were sitting on the pavement…

"Because you could hardly stand up…" Brienne added

"Thank you for reminding me of that dear…_because I could hardly stand up_, I decided it would be a good idea to phone Tyrion to come and get us. It turns out they didn't like dwarves either as he arrived at closing time and the regulars decided to have another go, only this time there were more of them."

"But there were more of us too. Tyrion's pretty handy with that Tazer gun."

"So there you are. A cautionary tale of what can happen when two brave souls try and stand up for London's own drink!"

Brienne and Jaime both chuckled. Then he wrapped his arm around her neck, pretending to throttle her in a playful head lock. She played along, making dramatic choking noises.

Gendry held his aching head in his hands. Shit. The two of them deserved each other.

"Hmmm. So where have you been since?" Arya asked Brienne.

Brienne turned a very bright, very pink, shade of embarrassed as she mumbled "Recovering…hanging out at Tyrion's house."

There was obviously more to that than she was telling.

"Rescuing Myrcella from the wicked Queen and delivering her to the big, bad wolves" Jaime added dryly.

"Yeah, well this big, bad wolf has heard enough. I need to go and get some sleep. Coming Arya?" Gendry stood up and stretched, deliberately drawing himself up to his full height and flexing his arms. It wouldn't do any harm to let Jaime Lannister know what he'd be up against if he made a wrong move.

Arya hesitated for a moment.

"You going to be ok Brienne?"

Brienne grinned lopsidedly; her swollen eye and lips making it look more like a grimace.

"Sure. If I can survive the Gin and Tonic wars I can survive anything." Jaime gave her broad shoulders a good natured squeeze and Arya reluctantly got up to leave her friend with a Lannister, albeit an apparently tame one.

They had to speak to Loras and Renly before they left. Renly appeared to be _very _pleased with the outcome of his meeting with Tyrion and promised to speak to Gendry about 'the plan' at Storm's End tomorrow.

Gendry made Arya relay every detail of her encounter with Gregor Clegane to Loras, who listened intently, asking pertinent questions when he deemed it necessary.

"So you believe me?" Arya asked, scared he was now going to laugh in her face and accuse her of making up fairytales.

"Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?"

"It's just it seems so…so…"

"Supernatural?"

She nodded. Loras shrugged.

"If Werewolves exist, why not? _There are more things in heaven and earth, Arya, than are dreamt of in your philosophy_."

"For fucks sake, stop with the Shakespeare!" Gendry moaned.

"I'm impressed LB. I didn't think they taught the arts in that black hole of a school you say you attended."

Gendry growled and stood up.

"Come on Arya. I'm too knackered for your cheap shots Loras."

Loras grabbed his wrist. "Sorry."

"Accepted. Take care of Edric for me will you?"

"Sure." Loras sighed, rubbing his head. If his hair had been long enough he would have been running his fingers through it like the Baratheons did. His guilt at having failed to protect Edric made him determined not to leave him unprotected now.

It was late afternoon and they'd all been up too long. Loras was going to stay at the hospital with Edric –Renly had to return to Storm's End to oversee the final preparations.

Gendry and Arya decided to stay at her flat, so they could visit Edric in the morning. His mother and Myrcella were maintaining a bedside vigil tonight. It was with heavy hearts that they left Maester's hospital together.

-o-

"You want a cup of tea or anything?" she asked, heading for the kitchen.

"No thanks I'm so tired I just want to go to sleep." He yawned, heading straight for her bedroom.

She wasn't too tired to notice that he seemed to know exactly which closed door led to her bedroom although he'd never been in her flat before. All six of them leading off the hall were identical, plain white doors. She decided she was too tired to ask him _how_ he knew.

She followed him into her bedroom, where he was closing the curtains, shutting out the evening light.

"God, I'm so tired." He groaned

"Me too" she yawned, plonking herself down on her favourite side of the bed.

"I need a shower." He dropped his jacket on the floor and started taking his boots off.

He pulled his T-shirt up over his head and despite being extremely tired, she felt that old familiar fizz in her panties as she watched muscles ripple under his skin. She didn't think she would ever tire of watching him undress. The T shirt was thrown on top of the jacket, the jeans quickly followed, leaving him in only a pair of those Storm's End briefs he'd said he hated; the designer ones that sat low on his hips and hugged his packet, making a huge and very tempting bulge. It was just at her eye level too.

"I see you haven't got around to buying yourself some boxer shorts yet?"

"What?" he mumbled, easing the tight, black briefs down over his rock hard, hairy arse.

"Oh, these?" he threw the pants on the top of the heap. "I suppose I've got used to them."

"Want me to join you in the shower?" she asked, knowing where that would lead and despite wanting it, half hoping he would say no, as her bed looked so inviting. She needed to climb in and curl up.

"No thanks. I prefer the smell of dirty Arya." He chuckled.

"I'm not dirty!" she said indignantly.

"You are a very dirty girl and you know it!" he smirked, bending over, placing a hand on either side of her and planting a soft kiss on her lips. She closed her eyes and leaned into it, opening her lips for him, but he was up and away almost immediately, heading for the shower.

With a big sigh she took her own clothes off. She could have followed him into the shower, but she decided she really was too tired, so she took his neatly folded Kawasaki T shirt out from under her pillow, pulled it on and snuggled under the covers. She was glad she hadn't put any make-up on before heading for the hospital, as she suspected she wouldn't have had the energy to take it off.

He was back very quickly after what must have been one of the shortest showers in history. It must be great to be a man she thought sleepily. No need for moisturising, your face and body, or drying your hair. She heard him moving around, putting the light off, climbing into bed, snuggling up against her back then instantly pulling away.

"Right Arya, get up!" he demanded.

"Whaaat?" she groaned, sitting up sleepily.

"Get my T shirt off." He ordered, grabbing the corners and pulling it up over her head. She half heartedly lifted her arms above her head as he pulled it off and threw it to the floor on his side of the bed.

"I wondered where that had gone! I'm having that back and no wearing clothes in bed anyway. We sleep naked, ok?"

"Ok." She mumbled, lying down and curling up again, enjoying the heat radiating from him as he wrapped his body around hers.

"Where'd your soft tummy go?" he asked as he stroked and then squeezed her stomach. She smiled to herself. All that hard work and healthy eating had paid off.

"I liked your little belly; in fact I'd love it if you had a great big, pregnant belly. What do you say Arya? Let's have a baby. It'll be a little Gendarya."

God, he could be so stupid sometimes. Why would she want to have a baby now? Wasn't life complicated enough and anyway, she was too young and right at this moment she was too tired to even think about it. She murmured a non-committal "mmmn" and he didn't push it.

It was only as she was drifting off to sleep in his arms that she realised it was pitch black in the room and he still knew she was wearing his bloody motorbike T shirt. Damn him – he must be able to see in the dark as well.

Some hours later, she woke up. The black-out curtains meant she couldn't tell if it was day or night. She decided it didn't matter what time it was, she was too deliciously warm and comfortable to get up anyway.

She had missed sleeping with him so much. It felt wonderful to feel him hard and strong and hot behind her. She wiggled her bum slightly and was rewarded by a deep, sleepy, contented groan. She smiled in the dark. She had felt something hard against small of her back as she wiggled. She did it again, just to be sure and was rewarded by another, slightly less sleepy, groan. Yip, it was his big, hard cock. She might have been too tired before for some hanky-panky but she wasn't anymore.

"Gendry" she whispered loudly.

A sleepy grunt.

"Are you awake?"

He didn't answer, but pushed his cock against her back and squeezed her a bit tighter. A huge grin spread over her face. It seemed he was thinking the same thing she was. She wiggled her bum and again felt him press against her.

"Want to do it?"

"You know I always want to do it with you." He moaned sleepily into her hair while moving the hand that had been resting on her tummy down a bit, fingers stroking along her bare bikini line. She was pleased she'd been organised enough to have had her Brazilian wax done a few days before, in preparation for her trip to Storm's End.

"Hmmm" she groaned with pleasure as his fingers soon found her clit. She opened her legs wider to allow his fingers more freedom to roam. He moved too and she was pleasantly surprised to feel the blunt tip of his cock nudging against the entrance to her tight pussy. She hoped she was slick enough to take him, as he normally made sure she was really wet with loads of foreplay, but this was different. She was enjoying the feeling of being dreamily half asleep and she didn't want anything to spoil that feeling – not even proper foreplay.

His other hand found her breast. As he rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, she arched her back with pleasure, pushing her bottom out against him and suddenly he was in. She gasped with surprise and delight as she immediately felt the friction of his big cock rubbing against her G spot. Not only was he immediately hitting the spot, it felt like her clit was being pushed out by his cock filling her from behind, making it even easier for him to strum with his practiced fingers. They'd never done it like this before and perhaps it was the fact that they hadn't done it at all in nearly a month, but she felt like she was in heaven.

"I think you like this" he whispered breathily in her ear as he simultaneously rolled her nipple, rubbed her clit and stuffed her full of cock.

"I…oh wow…" she gasped as he hit her G spot again.

"I don't just like it …oh fuck!" she groaned, as he did it again. She was going to come in moments and she was finding it hard to even string a coherent sentence together. She settled for a gasped "don't stop!"

"You love my big cock don't you Arya?" He whispered roughly into her ear. She shivered with sensual delight. She wasn't sure if it was his breath, tickling her ear that made her shiver, what he was saying or the way he said it. Either way it only added to the maelstrom of erotic sensations she was experiencing.

She was gasping and grinding back against him, nearly there. His pressing his lips against her ear, grunting with each stoke

_And I… love my …dirty…little…bitch_

That sent her over the edge and she convulsed against him, hearing his sawing breath and then a low, growled "fuuuuuck" as he came too.

They lay together, him wrapped around her, almost as they had been when they woke up. Their rapid breathing began to return to normal as they floated down from the high of great sex. As she felt his cum begin to ooze out, she wiggled against him again, feeling his spent cock slide out and rest, sticky against her thighs.

She whispered 'I love you too', but she wasn't sure if heard. He never replied, his breathing slow and deep already. She closed her eyes, enjoying the afterglow and sticky satisfaction of their love making and soon drifted off to sleep herself.

Next time she awoke it was to the sound of water running and a warm, empty space in the bed beside her. She stretched out, pushing her arms up and her toes down as far as they could go. He was back before she had finished her cat-like stretch, jumping into bed beside her and wrapping her in his arms again. He pressed urgent kisses on her neck and breasts as she finished stretching

"I think that was the best sex ever" she moaned, his unshaven face, an unfamiliar but not unpleasant, sensation against her skin

"When?" he asked, barely breaking his rhythm of hot, little kisses, peppered over her breasts.

"What do you mean – _when?_ In the middle of the night of course, when we woke up." Arya still wasn't sure what time it was now.

"You must have been dreaming. We haven't done it in a month. Why do you think I'm so goddamn eager now?"

She pushed him away so she could sit up. Was he kidding her? She looked him in the eye, trying to work out if he was joking or not. His blue eyes were twinkling and dancing, but that could have been because he was obviously very horny. She couldn't have failed to notice his huge erection as he jumped back into bed.

"We did so do it! You screwed me from behind and called me your dirty little bitch!"

He laughed, "You are my dirty little bitch!" before taking one raspberry nipple into his mouth, sucking on it so hard she felt the pull straight to her clit.

Trying to ignore the urgent need that had just exploded in her, she demanded

"Don't joke with me! We did do it last night didn't we?"

She was starting to doubt herself. After the weird stuff with Jaqen she was beginning to wonder if she was going mad. Surely she couldn't have imagined making love with Gendry too?

"Course we did – _stupid_ – I'm offended you could forget that. I made you come in record time too!"

She picked up the nearest pillow and whacked him with it. He blocked the blow with one hand while picking up another pillow with the other. He whacked her before she had time to take aim again.

"OOOF!" she yelled as the pillow hit her.

"This isn't a fair fight!" she shrieked, as he grabbed her pillow too and pretended he was going to whack her with them both.

"Well, you'll need to think of something bloody good to distract me from a pillow fight Stark!" he smirked slyly.

She thought for a moment, then giggled "How about a blow job?"

His expression changed instantly. "No, not that." He mumbled, dropping the two pillows and collapsing onto his back, gazing distractedly up at the ceiling.

What had she said to burst his happy bubble? That wasn't the reaction she was expecting when she offered to give him a BJ. Ok, she hadn't had much practice, but he'd seemed to quite enjoy her efforts before. Hoping he'd enjoy it once she got going, she leaned over his stomach, intending to wrap her lips around his semi-erect cock. He gently pushed her head away.

"I said - not that."

"I'll sure I'll get better if you let me practice" she pleaded.

He smiled ruefully and pulled her up, so she was lying on his chest, gazing up at his face.

"Don't worry. You give great blow jobs. I just don't want one now." He murmured, bending down and kissing her forehead. Although his lips were smiling, his eyes weren't. He looked strangely sad.

"What's wrong?" she implored, stroking the side of his face gently.

He gave a big sigh and groaned "It's not you it's me."

She sat up. She wasn't listening to that shit.

"Gendry. You are a crap liar, as I've told you many times before! Now tell me what's wrong!"

He looked at her for a moment with pale eyes, then turned his face away and muttered "I'm just thinking of Edric."

"Bullshit!" she yelled. She knew he was lying. He couldn't even look at her when he said it.

"Don't you dare blame this on Edric! You tell me now why you don't want a blow job!"

He clenched his jaw and turned his face back towards her. This time the eyes were cold and hard as steel.

"Ok. You really want to know…I'll tell you… _it's fucking everything! _Ok?! That do you?! It's the full moon in 36 hours; _I'm_ going to change, _we _need to bite Edric in the hope that it'll save his goddamn life, we need to bite Jon - assuming he doesn't change his fucking mind, we're going out to take Tywain fucking Lannister down and then I don't know what's going to happen, if I'll end up the Alpha or if I'll even come back alive and I'm scared! Ok?!"

She could only stare at him, shocked at his outburst, but he wasn't finished yet; there was more,

"Already I feel like my skin's too tight, like there's a fucking wolf inside me trying to get out – which of course there is. I can't think of anything except the full moon and changing and Edric and revenge. Is that reason enough for you? 'Cos I'm sure I can think of a few more shitty things happening in my life if you still don't believe me!" he ranted.

She got out of bed, opened the curtains, blinking as the sunlight streamed in, found her robe and stomped out.

She didn't know what to do; she just knew she had to get herself out of there. He wasn't telling her the whole thing. Ok, so everything he said was true. She knew he was worried sick about Edric and the full moon and changing, but that had been true last night, this morning, when they had made love. No, there was something else he wasn't telling her; something that had been triggered when she suggested a blow job.

A horrible thought occurred to her. Perhaps he'd cheated with Margaery. The bitch had been all over him from the beginning - look at the way they'd been hugging each other in the hospital when she'd turned up. Then she remembered how Margaery and Sansa and that entire crowd used to boast about their blow job prowess while maintaining their virginity. Maybe guys didn't consider a blow job from Margaery _I'm still a bloody virgin _Tyrell as cheating, but Arya sure as hell did.

She stomped off to the kitchen and started opening cupboards and banging pots around, distractedly intending to make an omelette. What the hell was she going to do? She didn't have time to decide as he was suddenly at the kitchen door, wearing only his tight little pants, looking contrite with big, blue puppy dog eyes.

"Hey, I'm sorry Babe. I shouldn't lay all that shit on you."

"Did you cheat on me with Margaery Tyrell?!" she blurted out, hoping it wasn't true, but needing to know.

"What? No!" he spluttered and she had to admit he looked genuine shocked by the idea, but she wasn't going to be convinced that easily. Perhaps he thought he was Bill Clinton and blow jobs didn't count as cheating to him either.

She held the omelette pan up, ready to throw it at him.

"Did you get a blow job from Margaery Tyrell?" she demanded through gritted teeth.

"No! I swear to you - No! I never touched her, never wanted to, never will!" he held his hands up, as if he was surrendering.

She didn't think he was lying now, but she still threw the omelette pan at him out of sheer frustration. He caught it deftly by the handle; even though it was flying through the air at great speed, tumbling end over end towards his stupid big head.

He put it slowly down on the worktop.

"Now that wasn't very nice Arya." He drawled, with a wicked gleam in his eye. "I'm hurting, telling you my troubles and you throw a frying pan at me!" he was slowly and very deliberately walking towards her.

"I did not!" she yelped in indignation as she backed away.

"Oh yes you did!"

"Did not!"

He was almost within touching distance now. She knew she was going have to be really fast to get away from him.

"It was an omelette pan, not a frying pan!" she taunted, desperately trying to work out the best way to get passed him.

"Where Milady comes from it might be an _omelette pan_, but where I come from it's _a fucking frying pan!_" As he lunged for her, she deliberately knocked a crystal vase of flowers over. The few seconds it took him to catch the vase were enough to give her the head start she needed. She heard him curse sharply as the cold water splattered him. She ran out the kitchen door, heading for the bedroom.

She never made it, as he was upon her almost instantly, dragging her down with him onto the floor like a wild animal with its kill. He had her turned over, kneeling above her stomach, her arms pinned above her head by one of his, before she knew what had hit her. His expression could only be described as 'wolfish'.

_Mental note_ she thought to herself – you're never going to win against the wolf if speed or strength were involved.

"What are you going to do with me now you've caught me?"

"Oh, I don't know…" he leered down at her "…what do big, bad wolves usually do with pretty little ladies?"

"Eat them?" she giggled suggestively.

Hunger was written across his face and her silky robe made it easy for him to slide her further up the wooden floor. He opened her robe and spread her legs wide, before burying his head between her legs and beginning to lick her with a hot, probing tongue. His unshaven jaw, rasping on the sensitive skin between her legs was only adding to her pleasure.

"Do the wolf thing again… like you did in the doorway" she panted.

He stopped and raised his head, so he could look at her, with dancing, mischievous, blue eyes

"_So Milady likes the wolf thing now does she?_"

"Just shut up and do it will you?"

"Like this?" he growled huskily, somehow, before her incredulous eyes, turning his eyes orange, baring his teeth and licking his lips with an inhumanly long, rough tongue.

"Oh, yeah baby!" she giggled with anticipation, "just like that...ooh…uh…yesssss…"

Her head was full of erotic, dangerous thoughts; she wondered what it would be like to be fucked by a wolf. If his tongue could do this, what could he do to her in full on wolf mode? She found the thought and the mental image wildly exciting and she was imagining him fucking her and biting her as she came, unexpectedly quickly and loudly, writhing in the floor.

"Hmmm, that was wonderful" she sighed as he straightened up, enjoying watching her float down from her post orgasmic high. She expected him to want to come himself now, but instead he nodded to the closed door behind her head.

"So that's Brienne's room?"

Arya had forgotten he had never been to her flat before. She confirmed it was with a mumbled "uh-huh."

"Who's Brienne shagging then?" Gendry asked. Although, his eyes were back to normal, he sniffed the air, as if trying to catch a scent.

Arya was taken aback by the directness of the question. She was still in a post orgasmic state of bliss and the answer was out of her mouth before she had time to think.

"Duck."

Shit! As soon as she said it, she knew that was a mistake. His attitude changed instantly. She tried to distract him,

"How do you know she's shagging anyone?"

"How do you think I know?" he asked sarcastically. "I can smell it! Like I can smell that dildo you keep in your bedside drawer. Sex stinks." He growled.

Arya was horrified. Brienne was verging on OCD when it came to tidiness and cleanliness. If Brienne's room stank, what on earth must hers smell like? At least he seemed to like her smell – that was some consolation she supposed.

"Do you mean Duck as in 'Rolly Duckworth'?" Gendry demanded.

Damn. She could almost see the little wheels turning in his head.

She propped herself up on her elbows, desperate to change the subject, knowing what was coming next,

"Yeah, what do you want for breakfast? We've only got healthy stuff. Brienne's a bit of a health food Nazi" Arya laughed nervously, hoping the offer of food would make him drop the subject.

To her surprise, Gendry immediately stood up, hands balled into fists, glaring down at her with icy blue eyes.

"_Nazi_ isn't a word to use lightly Arya. Don't say that again!" He barked.

She was quite taken aback by the ferocity of his reaction. She'd obviously touched another raw nerve. What was wrong with him today? First blow jobs and now Nazi's?

"How did Brienne meet Duck? And remember I can tell when you're lying!" he snarled.

Shit! Why did she have to tell the truth in the first place? She could have just said any random name and he'd have left it at that, instead she'd told him Brienne's private business and even worse, she knew he wasn't going to stop until he'd made her tell him about Griff. And she couldn't lie. Damn him – she knew he could tell. He was like a human/wolf hybrid lie detector now.

"Umm…we went to see Fire and Blood." She knew she was screwing up her face as she said it, yet she couldn't stop herself. God, it was as if, subconsciously, she knew she couldn't look him in the eye. "I'd been telling Brienne how good they were and when you were at Storm's End – you know after you got bitten, we saw a poster for them so…we just went."

"Ok, so you went to see them play I get that…but how did she meet Duck?" he pressed.

_Shit!_

She was still naked on the floor and he was clothed, ok, he pants on, arms folded across his chest, towering above her. This wasn't the best position to be having a discussion like this. She felt tiny and vulnerable. She slowly got to her feet, trying to work out how she was going to get out of this. She hadn't done anything _really_ wrong, but he wasn't going to like it.

"Well the boy in the cloakroom – you know the skinny guy you asked to look after your motorbike helmet?" Gendry nodded, face grim. "…he remembered me and he told us to go back stage after the gig. _Everyone was asking for you by the way_." She added that last bit as she thought it sounded better, or at least less bad.

And she had told Gendry the truth. She'd just omitted the bit about them being on the guest list and Griff telling cloakroom guy to look out for the most beautiful woman he'd see all night. Quite a lot of people seemed to be telling her she was beautiful recently. She tried not to smile at the realisation and concentrate on looking contrite for Gendry.

Gendry's brows were down and his lips pressed into a tight, flat line.

"I bet fucking Griff wasn't asking for me."

"He was actually" she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

"I'll bet he was just making sure I wasn't going to turn up and crash your little backstage party!" Gendry ranted.

He was beginning to scare her. She hadn't forgotten the time in the car park when he'd lost control. She still had the little white scars on her wrists to prove it.

"I don't know what your problem is!" she hissed "I didn't stay long."

Again true. She just omitted to mention that Griff had honed in on her like a heat seeking missile and she'd left with him almost immediately.

Gendry snarled. His eyes weren't turning orange – yet, but she could tell he was getting angrier and angrier.

"So Brienne ended up fucking Duck. That makes sense. He's got a thing for big women. He must have thought all his Christmases had come at once when he saw her."

Gendry might have made a joke, but he wasn't laughing, quite the opposite. He looked like he was ready to kill someone.

"And what about you Arya? You fuck Griff?" He hissed accusingly.

That was too much. She tried to slap his face, but he caught her wrist.

"I know _he's_ wanted to fuck you since he first laid eyes on you, but I don't know about you. I know I don't trust that blue haired cunt, but I don't know if I trust you." He was backing her towards the wall now. "Did you fancy a bit of rock star cock? Is that why you went to the gig? Is that why you went backstage?"

She was speechless with indignation and anger. She wanted to slap him for turning the tables, for accusing her of cheating on him, perhaps a slap would bring him to his senses. She tried with her other hand, but he caught that in his vice like grip too, bringing both of her hands above her head and trapping them with one of his.

She tried to knee him in the balls, but he anticipated that too. As she brought her knee up he wedged his leg between hers. He had her pinned against the wall, arms up, his hips grinding her against the wall. He yanked his tight pants down with his free hand, allowing his cock to spring free. She could feel it hot and hard against her stomach. Despite her anger, having him want her so much, having him so hot and aroused against her was thrilling.

"Did you get wet for him?"

"Fuck you!" she spat

"Can he fuck you as well as I can? Did he make you come like I can? Did he do this?"

He lifted her effortlessly and despite her wriggling half heartedly, trying not to make it _too_ easy for him, he had her legs around his waist and her impaled her on his cock in seconds, banging her against the wall, not caring that the picture of Winterfell hanging precariously on a hook to their left was working itself out of the wall with every thrust. All that mattered was the fuck.

She dug her long nails into his back, wanting to see if she could hurt him as he screwed her relentlessly. All the while, his blue eyes never left hers, the intensity of emotion in them scaring her more than the prospect of any physical pain. Although she'd only come minutes before, his onslaught was so ferocious, she thought she might even come again, but he finished first, pumping his orgasm into her with guttural, animal, grunts of triumph.

As he leant his head against the wall, breathing heavily, his cock still embedded in her, she whispered

"I never shagged him."

He groaned. "I know you wouldn't babe, It's just…I worry you'll want to go out and experiment with other guys."

"What?"

He looked sheepish as he lifted her up and set her on her feet again. She immediately felt his cum oozing between her thighs.

"Don't get me wrong. I _love_ that I'm the only guy you've been with, but sometimes I wish you had a bit more experience, so you'd realise just how good what we've got is." He sighed.

"Are you saying you actually want me to shag other guys?"

"No!" he yelped, pulling her into his arms, his expression sad and worried. "What I'm saying is this is the best sex of my life. God Arya, it's not just the best sex, it's the best _everything._ I love you so much and I don't know what I'd do if you left me."

"I'm not going to leave you stupid! I've got my head around the Werewolf thing…"

"I think you _love _the Werewolf thing" he interrupted, smirking down at her.

"Well, yeah. I'll admit it's got its _compensations."_

"So when are we getting married?"

She groaned.

"I can't even think about it until after Robb's wedding ok?"

He pulled a face.

"Ok, as long as you come off the pill and we start trying for a baby. I'd love to marry you when you were all fat and pregnant with our baby."

"No way! My mother would kill me!"

"Fuck your mother."

"Really?"

"You know what I mean." He chuckled, as he nuzzled into her neck, playfully kissing and licking the soft, flushed, skin.

She pushed him away.

"Don't start that again or we'll never get breakfast. Today's a big day. Renly's ball remember? And we've got to go and see Edric first."

He groaned as she burst his bubble and forced him to confront reality again.

"Ok. Make me an omelette in your fucking _omelette pan_ then."

"Listen to you! Lord Baratheon of Storm's End! It's a _fucking frying pan_ - stupid."

They grinned at each other. One thing led to another and it was quite a while before he got his omelette.


	28. Chapter 28 - Lady Baratheon

**Chapter 28**

**Lady Baratheon**

They were at Maester's Hospital before 8am. The car park was empty, there was hardly anyone around, and so the two Baratheon security guards positioned at the door were even more conspicuous than usual.

If Arya had been greeted with an imperceptible nod yesterday, Lord Baratheon was treated to the full snapped "Morning Sir!" as the guards stood to attention. Gendry greeted each one by name as they passed, gripping Arya's hand more tightly than was comfortable. Although the circumstances were awful, it felt good to have him by her side again.

To their surprise, Jaime Lannister was sitting outside Edric's room, cool as you like, one ankle resting on his other knee, Tyrion's Tazer gun cradled in his arms.

"Morning Arya!" His omitting Gendry from his cheery greeting didn't go unnoticed.

"Where's Loras?" Gendry snarled.

"Getting some sleep. He finally gave in about two hours ago. He'd apparently been up 48 hours straight before he finally let me take a turn."

Gendry glared at the Lannister with ill disguised loathing. Jaime deliberately grimaced back.

"Oh, give it a rest will you? Myrcella's in there as well. We've _all_ got an interest in keeping those two safe."

Gendry reluctantly nodded, before asking "How is he?"

Jaime shrugged. "Just the same I'm afraid."

That was good enough for Gendry. If his brother could only stay that way for another 36 hours, hopefully The Full Moon would work its magic.

Gendry slowly opened the door. Edric's mother was lying on a make shift camp bed on one side of Edric's bed and Myrcella was sitting in a chair on the other, holding Edric's hand in hers. Her head was resting on the bed, hair flowing over and down the sheet, glinting in the morning sunlight like a molten river of gold.

With the noise of the door opening, both sleeping ladies, sat up with a jolt.

"Edric!" his mother gasped.

"He's still with us Delena" Myrcella assured the older woman. "His hand is still warm and I can feel his heart beat."

"Thank the Gods. He made it through the night."

Gendry and Arya felt as if they were intruding.

"We wanted to see him before we had to go to Storm's End." Gendry offered by way of apology.

Edric's mother ignored him, fussing around Edric, adjusting his pillows and holding his other hand to make sure Myrcella was correct.

Myrcella was more welcoming. She looked exhausted, but she tried to smooth her hair and shyly extended her hand to Arya

"Hi, I'm Myrcella."

Arya took her hand and then couldn't stop herself throwing her other arm around Myrcella's shoulder and hugging her. She felt an immediate connection with Myrcella. That could so easily have been her, lying in the bed, with a devastated Gendry keeping vigil.

Myrcella returned the hug and said quietly "I've heard a lot about you. Edric was dying to meet you."

As soon as she said 'dying to meet you' her eyes welled up with tears.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean…" she choked.

"It's ok, it's ok" Arya soothed, while stroking the back of her head.

Delena stood up and pointedly said to Myrcella "I'm going to go and get washed. You won't leave him alone will you dear?"

"Of course not" Myrcella assured her.

Delena brushed past Gendry and swept out of the room, never looking at him once.

"I can't blame her for hating me." Gendry said miserably, moving the camp bed out of the way and drawing up another chair so he could sit at Edric's bedside.

"I don't think she hates you." Myrcella offered in a small voice. "You remind her of Robert and you scare her - you and what you represent. She never wanted Edric to go to Storm's End but she knows you offered him all the things she couldn't – money and prospects and most of all you welcomed him into the big, happy Baratheon family."

"Happy family!" Gendry snorted in disbelief, "I wish!"

"I know what she means." Arya interrupted. "I feel it too. You're all boys together – you and Jon, Loras and Renly. Edric must have wanted to be part of that too. Come on, surely you must see it? He never had a father or a brother and then you lot come along all at once. Best mates; always hanging around together, working out together, going drinking, the cars, the bikes…"

"Ok, ok, I get it." Gendry conceded.

"Don't tell me you don't love that too. The whole Pack thing…"

Gendry shot Arya a warning look. She was getting a bit too close to their secret for his liking.

"Any mother would be jealous of losing her child to all that." Arya continued, unperturbed, "he was still a boy when he left her and she must have known he'd come back a man. That in itself would have been bad enough and then…this happens."

Myrcella was looking embarrassed by all this talk of boys becoming men. She turned her attention back to Edric, gently stroking his cheeks and holding his hand.

"I know…" Gendry groaned, holding his head in his hands and running his hands through his hair. "If I could only turn the clock back…"

"If you feel like that, think how Loras must feel!" Arya blurted out. "I bet he's blaming himself for this. You know how seriously he takes his responsibilities."

Myrcella agreed. "He looked absolutely awful and he wouldn't leave, wouldn't even go out for some air, before Jaime persuaded him he had to get a few hours sleep or he'd be no use to anyone."

Gendry groaned again and buried his face in his hands.

Arya stood beside Myrcella and the two of them looked at Edric. He was a mess. The doctors had given him a tracheotomy. The blood splattered white plastic tube, punched through his throat, was connected to a ventilator that made a constant, mechanical wheezing noise. His head was wrapped in bandages, stained with blood in places. More tubes drained straw coloured fluid, flecked with blood, from his skull. Larger tubes were draining fluid from his lungs into plastic pouches hanging from the sides of the bed and every bit of flesh that Arya could see, seemed to be bruised or broken or bloodied. Tubes going in, tubes coming out - everywhere.

Edric's eyes were covered, his jaw was swollen out of any recognisable shape, but the black tufts of hair escaping from under the bandages, the broad shoulders and the wide, strong hands marked him out as a Baratheon. She presumed that, underneath all those bandages, his eyes were that same, mercurial blue that she loved so much.

He'd been dying to meet her. She squeezed Myrcella's hand, wrapped over Edric's. The two of them didn't deserve this. What had Edric done, except happen to be another of Robert's bastard's? Gendry was right – someone was going to have to pay for this. Whoever was responsible – not the Mountain, he was just the blunt instrument - whoever gave the order, had to be made to pay. None of them were safe; not Jon, not Danni, not herself, until whoever was responsible for this was dead. She looked across at Gendry; head still buried in his hands and hoped he was up to the task.

-o-

There was a long queue of vehicles waiting to pass through the security barrier to Storm's End. Trucks, vans and cars delivering all the things Renly needed for his annual charity ball.

Their driver drove to the head of the queue and had only started to lower his window when the security guard caught sight of the Head of Baratheon Security, fast asleep in the passenger seat. Shocked and flustered, the guard waved them through.

Gendry had woken Loras up at Maester's Hospital and insisted that he return to Storm's End with them. At first, Loras had argued that he should stay with Edric, but Brienne and Jaime swore they wouldn't leave him unguarded and Gendry made several veiled references to 'the arrangements' that had to be made before tomorrow night. So Loras reluctantly left with them and promptly fell asleep again as soon as the Range Rover started moving.

It was disconcerting to see Loras sleep. He looked younger, peaceful and his features so perfectly masculine, they could have been chiselled by Michelangelo. He was so beautiful Arya found it hard to tear her eyes away. Sleeping was such an intimate thing and Loras was always so arrogant and so guarded, she felt as if she was spying on him by watching.

Gendry was distracted, staring out the window, lost in his thoughts about the Full Moon no doubt. Arya watched Loras and decided to start a revenge list; Tywain Lannister, The Mountain and Cersi Lannister were on it. No-one had mentioned Joffrey's involvement yet, but she'd quite happily add him to her new list too.

They were dropped off at the main entrance into Storm's End. Gendry had to gently squeeze Loras' shoulder before the sleeping man woke up with a start, staring around in disbelief and muttering "are we here already?"

They had to pick their way through crates of champagne sitting around the door, waiting to be taken inside. Busy tradesmen bustled in and out carrying various, unidentifiable, wrapped things and several huge floral displays. They were probably five feet tall, from base to tip and as wide as they were tall. They were all the same; made up of various white flowers, arranged around a gold prancing Baratheon Stag in the middle of the arrangement. The vases were emblazoned with the legend 'Baratheon Enterprises Charity Ball 2013'. As soon as they approached the first one, Gendry and Loras started cursing and covered their noses with their hands.

"Fuck, that smell is unbelievable!" Loras cursed, his voice muffled by his hand.

"Who the hell ordered these?" Gendry snapped at a man in a black florist's apron, kneeling down, adjusting one of the displays.

The man shot up, staring at Gendry with terrified eyes "Lady Baratheon herself!" he explained, pointing to a figure standing on a chair, adjusting a similar, but many times larger, floral display in the middle of the grand entrance hall.

"Margaery!" Gendry and Loras groaned together.

The three of them walked into the foyer, the two men still covering their noses and mouths with their hands. As they approached Margaery, Renly appeared from behind the display.

"At last! I was beginning to think you weren't coming!"

"I'm beginning to wish I hadn't!" Loras choked "What the fuck is that smell and how can you stand it?"

"Oh, its Lilies mostly I think and don't worry, you'll get used to it."

Loras tentatively removed his hand from his lower face. "I don't think I want to get used to it as I can smell bugger all else over that stench."

"Well, it can't be changed now, so you'll just have to put up with it!" Margaery snapped from the top of her chair.

They were interrupted by two more men wearing aprons, struggling to carry another one of the floral displays between them,

"Excuse me Lady Baratheon, but where do you want this one?" One of them puffed.

"Lady Baratheon?" Gendry snarled, glaring at Renly.

Renly just shrugged and brushed off Gendry's accusation with a dismissive "It's just easier."

"I don't care if it's easier or not! I'm not having her referred to as that!" Gendry yelled at Renly, while Arya and Loras exchanged awkward glances.

Margaery was ignoring the bad tempered discussion going on below her and ordered the florists to take the arrangement down to the half landing on the lower staircase.

"I've marked crosses with tape on the floor where I want these vases!" she yelled after the men as they struggled away with the huge display.

"Come on Gendry. It doesn't mean anything." Arya tried to smooth the matter over, as Renly was now standing with his hands on his hips, jaw clenched, obviously annoyed by his nephew's aggressive tone.

Loras diffused the situation by interrupting with "I need to get the hell out of here. I could do with some Tai Chi before we get ready for this damn ball. Gendry you with me?"

"Yeah. I need to get the hell away from here too."

"Renly?" Loras enquired.

Uncle and nephew glared at each other with ill disguised bad temper, but Renly eventually conceded he'd join them, with a sighed acceptance.

"And with his usual excellent sense of timing, here comes Jon…" Loras smiled as Jon and Danni descended the great staircase together. Arya couldn't help noticing that there was a distance of a few feet between them and that Jon was stony faced, while Danni looked unhappy.

"We had just decided to go to the gym, before the chaos really starts. Care to join us?"

Jon looked to Danni for approval. She shrugged noncommittally, avoiding making eye contact with him.

"Sure" Jon agreed "Danni – you can catch up with Arya. Ok?"

Danni pulled a face that made it clear it was anything but ok, but Jon ignored her, turned to Loras and exclaimed "Let's go do this then!"

At least Jon asked Danni, Arya thought to herself. Gendry never even asked her. He just buggered off with his Pack without as much as a backwards glance.

"Right ladies! Let's go and grab a coffee and then I've got a treat for us!" Margaery giggled as she jumped down from the chair, "and I'm sorry about the Lady Baratheon thing Arya – you know what tradesmen are like! I've told them so many times to just call me Margaery, but they simply don't listen."

Arya mumbled that it was ok, but she had no doubt that Margaery _loved _being called Lady Baratheon. However, Arya had to admit Margaery had obviously worked very hard at organising this ball. The decorations were stunning and all the preparations must have taken weeks. Arya couldn't imagine herself doing that next year - if that was what Lady Baratheon was expected to do.

Penrose had a beautiful, art deco style, Italian coffee machine in his office. He had a clip board in his hand and seemed to be checking off a mountain of boxes of spirits. Arya saw half a dozen boxes of Courvoisier vsop brandy, double that number of the boy's favourite Talisker whisky and dozens of boxes of Belvedere Polish Vodka. They had already walked passed another mountain of Champagne outside. Obviously the party was going to be well oiled with booze. Penrose didn't seem to mind being interrupted by the three girls and even made their coffees for them as they discussed the arrangements for the ball.

"I 'ave brought the most sexee costume with me! But I will need you to 'elp me with my 'air Arya." Danni giggled excitedly.

"Costume?" Arya wondered uncomfortably

"It is an annual a fancy dress ball Miss Stark" Penrose explained.

Arya was horrified. She didn't have a costume. Why hadn't Gendry told her? It probably hadn't crossed his stupid mind. Details like that seemed utterly unimportant to him.

"Don't worry" Margaery laughed, seeing Arya's obvious distress. "Loras is in charge of the costumes every year and he has us all sorted."

Arya was relieved. Relieved she had a costume and relieved it was Loras and not Gendry that had picked it. Gendry would probably have chosen a tarty French maid's outfit or something equally trashy. She expected Loras' choice of outfit would be a good deal more subtle.

"Same again for you then Miss Tyrell?" Penrose asked, trying to stifle a laugh.

"Of course! My brother has no imagination and Renly's favourite movie is 'Cabaret', so every year I get the Sally Bowles costume." Margaery sighed, obviously not looking forward to being made to wear what Loras and Renly wanted her to.

"What eez 'the Sally Bowles'?" Danni asked.

"You may be familiar with the pictures of Liza Minnelli from the movie Miss Targaryen. In fact, I don't believe Miss Minnelli has deviated far from that look since she made the movie 40 years ago." Penrose explained rather cattily.

Danni still looked puzzled, so Arya started singing the song

"_What good is sitting alone in your room?  
Come hear the music play.  
Life is a Cabaret, old chum,  
Come to the Cabaret…_umm, that's the only bit I know."

"Bravo Miss Stark!" Penrose clapped enthusiastically, "but please don't let Renly hear you sing that, or before we know it, he'll have us all putting on a show in Storm's End."

"Eeek!" Arya squeaked "thanks for the warning."

"Ah! I 'ave seen the movie – the one in Berlin, with the Nazis."

"Yes!" the other three chorused together. It did strike Arya as unusual that Nazis had come up in conversation twice in the one day.

As Penrose finished making them coffees, Arya and Danni learned that Renly was always Julius Caesar, Loras was always Russell Crowe from the Gladiator movie and, in an attempt at humour, Penrose was Batman, as opposed to the 'Albert the butler' identity he assumed for the other 364 days of the year.

When Arya asked if they didn't get fed up with it, Penrose told her that, after being given increasingly more ridiculous costumes by Loras (The Sumo wrestler was the final straw, but Santa and a Genie had been previous low points), Robert had put his foot down and threatened to call the whole thing off. Apparently Renly had taken such a strop that he'd refused to go into the office and, within three days, Baratheon Enterprises was in such chaos, that Robert was begging him to come back and even wore the Sumo wrestler fat suit to appease his young brother.

So no, they didn't bother arguing. It was easier to just go with the flow and keep Renly happy. Arya hoped Loras liked her enough not to make her a fat Sumo or something equally gross, and she couldn't help wondering what he had in store for Gendry and Jon. Apparently even Renly didn't know (or if he did, he wasn't telling Margaery).

"I promised you a treat girls! Follow me!" Margaery crowed after they all had their coffees in take away, brown cardboard cups.

Penrose rolled his eyes and gave Arya an apologetic shrug. He obviously knew what Margaery was up to and didn't look as if he approved.

Arya and Danni followed Margaery to a far flung part of the castle. Everywhere they went, there was frantic action. As they walked, Margaery barked orders left, right and centre; move this, more of that, polish harder.

If she was being honest, Arya found Margaery rather intimidating. She was like Sansa only even more so; older, beautiful, educated, sophisticated, spoiled, supremely self confident and everything Arya felt she was not. Watching her deal with the tradesmen and knowing she had organised this ball almost entirely herself made Arya feel inadequate. What if Gendry expected _her _to do all this next year? Arya had never thought much about what being 'Lady Baratheon' would mean – beyond being Gendry's wife. Seeing Margaery at work was opening Arya's eyes to the fact that there was _much_ more to the title than she had anticipated.

Arya's mother was also Lady of a great house, but Arya had never seen her mother behave like Margaery. Winterfell had never hosted an event like this for as long as Arya could remember, however, Robb's wedding wasn't far off and she wondered how her mother was coping with all that planning and upheaval. Arya suspected that, if she went back to Winterfell right now, she would be shocked by its shabby, homely appearance. She supposed she'd never really noticed before, but while Storm's End seemed to be subject to a perpetual, rolling programme of maintenance and improvement, she barely remembered anything being done to Winterfell – ever. No wonder Robb was so worried about the bloody roof.

They followed Margaery up a flight of stairs, where they finally came out onto a terrace, bathed in late morning sunlight. The sky above was cloudless and a gently sea breeze was wafting towards them, gently moving the leaves of the orange and lemon trees planted in large terracotta tubs around the terrace.

"Ohhh, I zee what you mean!" Danni purred with pleasure, as she leaned over the glass balcony, eyes fixed on whatever was below.

Arya stepped forwards, to follow Danni's gaze and was shocked to see they were above a gym, where Gendry, Jon, Loras and Renly were calmly and rhythmically moving as one through flowing Tai Chi moves.

Arya immediately pulled back and hissed at the other two. "Why are we here?! This is like spying on them!"

"Nonsense!" Margaery scolded. "I come here every day. They love showing off and I love watching – so everyone's happy."

Arya wasn't happy. Who was Margaery watching? Her brother and his gay partner? Unlikely, which only left Gendry and Jon. The thought of Margaery watching either, or both of them, made her uncomfortable. The thought of them showing off to Margaery, made it worse.

Danni and Margaery were leaning on the glass balustrade, looking delighted with the view. Arya watched them watch the boys and she grew increasingly more annoyed. That was _her_ man down there – she shouldn't be the one feeling awkward. Reluctantly, she edged forward and stood beside Danni, who giggled and bumped a hip against hers.

"We are lucky, no? Our men are so beautiful!"

Arya didn't reply, but had to agree. Only Renly had a top on and all four of them had a sheen of sweat on their skin that made them almost shine in the sun. They moved with perfect symmetry, this routine obviously practiced to perfection. Each one had a serious, yet serene expression on his face, eyes half closed as if lost in the rhythm of the moves. She had no idea Gendry could move so gracefully and she felt a surge of pride as she watched him slowly move, stretch and balance while different muscles rippled and pulsed under his skin.

Every part of him was so familiar, his handsome face, his big strong arms, silky hair that stretched across his chest and down, his tattoo and yet watching him move like this made her see him again with fresh eyes. Danni was right, he was beautiful and, best of all, he was hers.

The memory of their love making was still fresh in her mind. Her back and bottom were still aching from the pounding they had received as he'd taken her on the floor and against the wall a few hours earlier. Watching him made her want him again and she felt a fresh surge of desire as she remembered him, big and hard and strong around her and in her. It thrilled her to know how much he wanted her too.

As if reading her mind, he suddenly looked up, his sparkling blue eyes finding hers instantly and a slow smile spread across his face as their eyes met and unspoken words flowed between them. She gave him a shy wave and he winked back, not breaking the rhythm of his moves, but letting her know he was pleased to see her too.

She felt Danni's hip bump against hers again.

"We must 'ave fun and forget all zee bad things tonight. Jon says I 'av to leave tomorrow, so we make zee most of tonight no?"

Danni's intentions were clear. She was suggesting they have a repeat of their last night of 'fun'. Arya looked anxiously at Margaery, hoping she had no idea what Danni was talking about, but Margaery was still engrossed in watching the boys. This wasn't the time or the place to talk about it, so Arya just nodded. She'd need to speak to Danni about that later, when they were alone, or at least when Margaery wasn't around.

The Tai Chi seemed to be finished and Margaery excitedly told them this was her favourite bit. The weights and the machines could be a bit boring, she said, but she _loved_ it, when they messed around.

Sure enough, Gendry immediately did an un-supported, perfectly balanced, hand stand then started doing press-up's in the hand stand position; the muscles in his shoulders bulging, legs impressively straight, hair flopping over his face. When he began doing them one handed, Arya knew he was really showing off. No way you could do that without inhuman strength, she thought… or could you? The boundary between what was real and unreal, normal and supernatural was becoming blurred.

Renly was doing some kind of martial arts high kicks, mid spin in the air. His physique was the least obviously gym honed out of the four, being thinner and leaner. Arya was most impressed by the transformation in Jon. He'd always been fit, with all that climbing and working outdoors. But now it was as if not only his hair had been shorn away. There wasn't a spare ounce of fat on him anywhere and that didn't even look like a six pack he had – more like an eight pack. Good for him, she thought and wondered if a month in Storm's End might do the same for Robb, who had been sliding into chubby middle age last time she saw him.

Pity Jon didn't seem to have grown up much though. He and Loras looked like they were wrestling. Jon was laughing, as he and Loras fought over some hold and they grappled this way and that, until Jon finally seemed to get some extra leverage and forced Loras down onto his back. Loras promptly kicked out with one leg, catching Jon on the back of his knee, causing Jon to collapse in a heap beside him. Then they started wrestling on the floor. Honestly, they were like two little boys in the playground. Arya thought it was embarrassing, but Danni seemed to be enjoying it; giggling then gasping when Jon looked like he was in danger of getting hurt.

After Gendry flipped himself backwards onto his feet, he shouted up to Arya

"Want to come down here and show me your gym moves?"

Arya was horrified. Brienne had shown her how to do proper sit ups and stuff like 'the plank', but no way was she getting down into the gym with those four. It would be like going into the lion's den….ok, the wolves' lair.

"Come on! Jump and I'll catch you!"

"No way!"

"Come on. I dare you!"

Arya shook her head. She might have done it if there was no-one else around, but not with everyone watching.

"I'll do it!" Margaery yelled down.

Gendry glared at Arya, before holding his arms up to Margaery.

"Come on then."

In moments Margaery was sitting on the top of the balustrade kicking her legs. Everyone stopped what they were doing to watch.

"You'd better not drop me LB!"

"Course I won't. Come on then – jump."

With a shriek she pushed herself off and dropped screaming into his arms. He caught her, pretended to drop her, and then tried to set her on her feet while she clung onto his neck. Gendry had to peel her hands away before she let him go.

"Me next!" Danni shouted down excitedly.

Arya had never seen anyone move so fast. In seconds, Gendry, Loras and Renly were all packing up and pulling on T shirts. Gendry yelled up "sorry we just remembered we've got a meeting."

Danni's face fell. "Jon?!" she wailed.

He looked at the other three. They were all, very unsubtly, telling him 'no' by shaking heads, rolling eyes and pulling faces.

Loras was the one who yelled up at Danni, "Sorry, he's got to come too." Before draping his arm around Jon's shoulder and virtually dragging a bewildered Jon away.

"Stupeed boys!" Danni huffed. "Let's go Arya; I want to talk to you anyway."

"Can we go to my room? I want to have a shower and find out where my costume is."

The two of them were quite glad to leave Margaery behind in the gym.

-o-

Once they were in Arya and Gendry's room, Danni sat on the edge of a chair, looking around everywhere but at Arya.

"What is zat?" she asked, pointing at the back of a huge painting.

Arya groaned. It was the painting of the wolf juggling the moons she'd sold to Renly. Apparently he'd dumped it on Gendry, who hated it and turned it to the wall.

"It's a white elephant."

Danni obviously didn't understand, but she seemed to have something else on her mind.

"Arya, I need your 'elp."

"Sure". Arya could tell Danni was agitated. She picked at imaginary fluff on her very tight dress. Danni certainly wasn't her usual, confident, sparkly, self.

"I 'ave a problem with Jon…."

Arya waited for her to continue. She didn't.

"Ok, I'll try and help you if I can" Arya said gently, trying to sound helpful, but thinking '_oh dear_'. Jon could be so stubborn and so single minded; he wasn't likely to listen to anyone, not even her, once he got an idea in his head.

" …this 'as never 'appened to me before and I do not know what to do."

Danni finally looked up, with those sad, bewitching lilac eyes.

Arya tried to look sympathetic and nod encouragingly.

"He will not make love to me Arya…"

Arya tried not to look shocked.

"It eez worse! He will not even touch me! I 'ave tried everything! The sexy lingerie, I do a sexy dance for 'eem, I even beg and I 'ave NEVER done zat before! A Targaryen does not beg! But for 'eem I beg and I plead and still he will not touch me!"

Arya was sure she knew why – because the DNA test had confirmed Daenerys was Jon's aunt, but she wasn't sure if Danni knew that.

"Um…have you asked him why?"

"Of course! Zee stupid boy says it is because I am his aunt. Pah! He does not know Rhaegar! Mon dieu, I 'ardly know Rhaegar! Ma mere was 19 when she 'ad Rhaegar and 43 when she 'ad me! I was a beautiful surprise! A leetle miracle! And Rhaegar – he was already zee big star. He is never interested in me, yet Jon says we cannot be together because of zeese. Pah! Men are so stupeed." She said with feeling.

While Arya could certainly agree with that last statement, she also knew how important family was to Jon and also how black and white everything was with him. There were no shades of grey in Jon's world. It was wrong or it was right and once he made up his mind, she hadn't ever known him to budge. Look at the mess with Robb. Anyone else would have just minded their own business and kept their mouth shut, or at most, said their piece and respected their brother's wishes. Not Jon. He was prepared to estrange himself from Robb for ever, because he didn't approve of his brother's love life.

"Oh!" Was all Arya could think of to say.

"I would like you and Gendry to talk to heem. Ee will listen to you! The four of us had such fun before. No? Perhaps we can have fun again? I brought more 'ash with me."

Arya didn't think that was a good idea. She had been so drunk before and it had all happened so spontaneously, she was prepared to think of it as a one off – one daft, magic night when she didn't know what the potent mix of golden Arbour wine, marijuana and a very uninhibited Danni would do to her. Well, she knew now. It had been great, precisely because it had been so spontaneous and unexpected, but she could barely look Jon in the eye after the last time and she certainly wasn't going to knowingly go there again.

"Ummm. I don't think that's a good idea Danni."

Danni's beautiful face, that had been so full of hope moments before, fell. This seemed to have been the idea she was pinning all her hopes on. Arya felt awful for letting her friend down.

"I mean Ican't. Umm…my period has just started." She lied, trying to let Danni down gently.

"Pah! Your period does not 'av to mean no fun!" Danni huffed.

Just when Arya thought the conversation couldn't get more uncomfortable, Danni suddenly asked

"Ow long 'as zit been since we 'ad our fun Arya?"

Arya knew exactly. It had been the night before the full moon and the full moon was due again tomorrow.

"A month."

Danni's eyes became huge, like saucers.

"Oh!" she exclaimed suddenly, standing up. "I 'av been so busy weeth work and upset weeth Jon, I forgot."

"Forgot what?"

"My period."

The two women stared at each other, realisation dawning on them both.

"Oh, you're probably just late due to stress or something" Arya suggested hopefully.

"Mon dieu! Two weeks?" Danni promptly sat down, then stood up again. "I need zee test!"

"Umm, a pregnancy test?" Arya wondered, hoping she was guessing wrong.

"Oui! Now! We must get one _now_ Arya!"

"Umm. Ok." Arya was wondering where the hell they were going to get one of them. Storm's End was miles from the nearest village and Arya didn't even know if it had a chemists shop. They needed a town or a supermarket and she had no idea where the nearest one was. Unless…

She picked up the phone and dialled Penrose's extension, hoping he was still in his office.

The butler's cultured, mannerly voice answered. "Penrose here."

"Uh, Penrose. I need some help."

"Of course Miss Stark. What can I do for you?"

He was as calm and as obliging as ever. Let's see how he reacts to this…

"Can you get me a pregnancy test please?"

There was only the briefest hesitation at the other end of the phone before he replied,

"I am not sure if we routinely carry these as part of our…ah…medical supplies. But I shall certainly check. If not, I shall obtain one as soon as possible."

"Brilliant! Oh thanks Penrose, you're wonderful!" Arya quickly hung up and turned her attention to Danni "One way or another, we'll have one soon."

Danni was beginning to look very pale and shocked.

"How about a nice cup of tea?" In stressful situations everyone always has cups of tea don't they? Arya couldn't think of anything else to say to Danni, so she busied herself with the kettle and tea bags.

As Arya made the tea, she couldn't help noticing Danni looking down at her flat tummy and slowly running her hands over it. Was there a baby in there? Jon's baby?

Danni looked shell shocked. Arya was beginning to feel a bit shocked herself. What the hell was Jon going to say or do if Danni was pregnant? Having a bastard child, born out of wedlock, was the one thing he had always sworn he would never do.

When they were young and Theon or Robb used to tease Jon about being a bastard, Jon had always said he'd never have sex until he was married. Like that was _ever_ going to happen. Later, when they were teenagers and the boys talked non stop about shagging girls, he used to swear he'd marry any girl he got pregnant.

Back in his flat, Gendry had referred to Jon as 'Captain Condom'. Arya wondered what had happened to 'Captain Condom' at the Dorchester Hotel. If Danni was pregnant Jon couldn't exactly marry her, could he? Could you marry your aunt? Arya thought not. She found herself hoping that Danni wasn't pregnant and this was all a false alarm.

-o-

Gendry was looking for Penrose. He had almost reached the butler's office, when Penrose came rushing out, looking more flustered than Gendry had ever seen him. In fact, it occurred to him that he had never seen Penrose look even remotely flustered before; surprised yes – when Arya had dressed them both up in that 80's gear, but never flustered.

"Hey, you ok?" Gendry asked as the old man nearly bumped into him.

"Oh, it's you Sir. I'm just going to the medical centre, if you care to follow me." Penrose said hurriedly, without breaking his stride.

Puzzled, Gendry stood and watched him bustle off, before deciding to follow. He had wanted to ask Penrose if there was anyway he could get out of wearing a damn costume. Loras wouldn't tell him what it was and Gendry had a strong feeling he wasn't going to like it.

Penrose was the master of etiquette and if anyone knew how he could get out of wearing a costume and side step his obligations as 'Lord Baratheon of Storm's End' tonight it would be Penrose.

This was Renly's show and he was quite happy to let his Uncle get on with it.

After that close call with Danni wanting to jump, Loras had dragged Jon off somewhere; Renly beat a hasty retreat and left him alone with bloody Margaery. It had taken him a good half an hour to extract himself from her presence. She kept coming up with other things she '_had_' to tell him about the ball, none of which Gendry cared a jot about.

"Uh, I wanted your advice." Gendry explained once he'd caught up with the butler. They weren't actually walking; it was more like a jog.

"Would you not prefer to wait until you have the result of the test?"

What test? Penrose had never mentioned a test before. But a test on his lessons about Baratheon history and bloody Baratheon Enterprises was to be expected. Testing him, to make sure he'd actually been paying attention to what Penrose was trying to teach him, was quite Renly's style.

"Uh. Ok, I suppose." Gendry muttered, still trotting beside Penrose. They were almost at the medical centre now.

"I hope you and Miss Stark will understand that I've never been asked for one before."

Someone asked for a test? It sure as hell wasn't him! Arya wouldn't have asked for him to be tested either as she hadn't been here in a month. Gendry was beginning to suspect he and Penrose might be talking at cross purposes.

He wondered what on earth was going on and making Penrose so anxious. The older man was now rooting around in a cupboard that seemed to contain boxes and boxes of Tampax and other, strange, women's things that Gendry didn't know much about and didn't _want _to know anything about. He averted his gaze as Penrose stacked box after box of sanitary towels on the floor in front of the cupboard.

"Uh Penrose…what exactly are you looking for?"

Whatever it was, Penrose seemed to have finally found it, exclaiming triumphantly

"Here you are! I am delighted to say we are prepared for all eventualities!" he handed Gendry an oblong, blue and white, cellophane wrapped box.

Gendry turned it over.

"PREGNANCY TEST!" he yelled, fumbling and nearly dropping the box with surprise.

"Yes, Miss Stark buzzed me from her room…your room…and asked me to get one as soon as possible."

"And she's up there just now?" Gendry yelped. He was amazed Penrose could understand what he was saying, as his mind was racing ten times faster than his mouth seemed to be working.

Arya had asked for a pregnancy test! Presumably for Danni, but there was a little voice of hope in his head whispering it was for Arya. He tried to rationalise things. If it was Arya, how could he not know? She didn't smell pregnant like Danni, but he didn't know how far on Danni was. Maybe there wasn't anything to smell until she was a bit further along. Dare he hope? He knew he was probably putting two and two together and making five, but if he and Jon became dads at the same time, how cool would that be? His kid would grow up to be best mates with Jon's kid. Would they be cousins? Holy shit!

"She is still in your room as far as I know Sir." Penrose replied, looking extremely surprised by the sudden change in Gendry's behaviour.

Gendry ran for the door. He didn't just hurry, he ran. He felt like a big kid again, running full pelt indoors. Unlike then, there was no-one to tell him to stop now. He nearly crashed into some waiters carrying an ice statute, but they spotted him just in time and managed to hug the wall. Storm's End had great, long corridors and he got up a good speed before he reached the bottom of the grand staircase where he took the stairs three at a time. He felt like he was flying. Running past the paintings of his ancestors, he couldn't help but grin. With a big bit of luck, there might be another Baratheon to add to the family tree, sooner than he had dared hope.

He was about to burst into the room – his room - rip the cellophane off the box and start whooping with excitement, but just as he was about to wrench the door open he decided it was perhaps not smart to be acting like a big kid at Christmas. So he knocked politely on the door – _his own door_ - and waited for Arya to shout 'Come in!"

Her face was flushed; he could smell the adrenalin and hear her accelerated heart beat. He could also _definitely_ smell that pregnancy smell as soon as she opened the door. His heart leapt with hope.

She was obviously shocked to see him and her eyes flicked to the pregnancy test.

"What are you doing with that?"

"I bumped into Penrose!" he grinned. "Got here as fast as I could!" he handed her the box.

She was looking at him, open mouthed.

"Oh, God, I never thought I'd be this excited. It's like Christmas only better. Come on, hurry up and pee on it or whatever you do. I'm dying to know!" he was practically hopping from one foot to the other with anticipation.

"It's not for me _stupid!"_ she grabbed the box off him and hissed "It's for Danni – now get out and don't you dare say anything to anybody about this! And you know I mean Jon. Don't you _dare _tell him!"

"'Ave you got one?" Danni shouted from the bathroom.

Shit! Bloody fucking hell. Danni was here. Whatever was going on – it wasn't Arya thinking she was pregnant.

"Yeah! I'll be there in a minute!" Arya yelled back towards the closed bathroom door.

"I mean it Gendry!" she hissed at him again.

She started to walk away from him.

"I just thought…that is I hoped…"

She stopped and turned around.

"You know I'm on the pill! And don't you think there's enough shit going on right now without _that _too?!"

Yeah, exactly! There _was_ too much shit going on – that's exactly why he wanted something _great _to happen to them both, but Arya didn't look like she was in the mood to discuss a baby of their own right now.

"You don't need that anyway" he growled, looking down at the pregnancy testing kit, "I can tell you she's pregnant."

Arya stopped in her tracks.

"And how do you know that?"

"I can _smell it,_ of course."

"I mean – how do you know what pregnant smells like?"

"Loras had to explain to me exactly what it was, but she's reeking of it. Hormones…whatever."

"So, you lot know already – is that what you're telling me?"

Gendry nodded.

"Oh, I understand now – that's why you were so worried when Danni wanted to jump. Does Jon know?"

"We've not told him."

"So it's '_we_' now is it?"

He ignored the dig. Of course it was 'we' – they were His Pack and as important to him as she was, albeit in a slightly different way. He'd fight and die for them too, only he didn't want to fuck their brains out.

"So everyone knows – except Jon and Danni?"

He shrugged.

"Margaery doesn't know…" then he had to qualify that by adding "…I don't think." He knew Loras wouldn't have told her, but bloody Renly might. Renly and Margaery were as thick as thieves at the moment.

"Oh that's just great!" Arya hissed sarcastically. "Where's Jon now?"

"Loras took him away somewhere…I don't know where he is." He admitted through gritted teeth.

"Well you'd better go find him and tell him to get down here and talk to Danni. He needs to hear it from her before some other _idiot_ tells him!"

Gendry turned on his heel and walked out. Fucking women. They always managed to twist everything around so it was your fault. It wasn't him that got Danni pregnant for fuck's sake yet Arya was talking to him like he was to blame.

He stomped off to find Jon, wishing to hell that that night on the roof terrace – in fact the whole fucking week, had never happened.

It took him ages to find Jon. There was no sign, or scent of him anywhere, but the stink of the damn flowers was so overpowering it was masking everything else. Gendry eventually had to ask bloody Margaery, who was still doing her 'Lady Baratheon' act and bossing everyone around. She had last seen Jon about half an hour before, going up in the lift.

So Gendry took the lift. He decided to start at the top and work down. There wasn't much on the top floor – only the battlements and the roof. He'd been up a few times, when he was bored – just to have a look at the view, but he didn't know Jon had been up here.

As soon as the lift doors opened, he sucked in the fresh sea air and caught a whiff of Jon's scent; so familiar, so reliable, reminding him of their youth and of Winterfell. Gendry followed his nose, up the few stairs and out of the fire door to the ramparts. There was Jon, sitting in the sunshine, right on the top of the battlements, legs dangling over the side, staring down at Shipbreaker Bay.

_Jesus Christ! Was he going to jump?!_

Gendry didn't know whether to try and sneak up on him and grab him before he jumped, or to try and act naturally. What he wasn't going to do was shout, in case Jon got a fright and toppled over the edge. So Gendry made a great show of clearing his throat, stomping his feet and whistling tunelessly as he approached. He had no doubt Jon heard him, but his best mate didn't look up. He seemed fascinated with whatever was below.

When Gendry finally got within touching distance, he muttered 'Hey mate'. To his relief, Jon replied with the same greeting.

"Umm…what are you doing?" Gendry asked as he peered over the edge. He didn't like heights particularly and seeing the jagged rocks and the sea way down below made his stomach do a double flip. He quickly pulled back and kept his eyes focused on Jon. His friend did look miserable.

"I'm just thinking." Jon replied glumly.

"You're not thinking of jumping or anything like that are you?"

Jon looked at him as if he was stupid.

"No! Why would I do that? I like it up here. It reminds me of climbing and the mountains. I need to get back out there again. It's been too long."

Gendry breathed a huge sigh of relief.

"Can you come down please mate? It gives me the heebie-jeebies to look at you up there."

Jon swung his legs round and dropped off the wall, landing like a cat on the stone pathway.

"_Heebie-jeebies_…I haven't heard anyone say that in a long time." Jon laughed and he was back to normal.

Gendry though he might as well get it over with…

"Danni wants to see you."

Jon sat down heavily on the ground, with his back to stone rampart and sighed.

"I bet she does. Well, she'll be waiting a long time."

Shit! Gendry sat down beside him.

"Umm…can I ask why you don't want to see her?"

Jon groaned and picked up a piece of gravel and threw it between the stone stacks of the ramparts and over the edge. Gendry wondered how long it would take to fall all the way to the sea. Imagining the long fall made his stomach do a flip again.

"Because all she wants to do is shag." Jon groaned.

Gendry had to stifle a chuckle of relief. So that's all it was.

"And your point is…?"

"Well I can't can I? Not now I know she's my fucking aunt."

"So you've not had a terrible fight or anything?"

"No!" Jon looked at him in disbelief. "Why would we fight? She's just pissed off with me because all she wants to do is shag and I …I keep saying no."

Gendry did have to laugh at that.

"Mate, I can't imagine Danni's been refused often."

"I know" Jon groaned. "She's so fucking hot and the things she's been trying… to get me to …you know. Jesus, you can't imagine."

Gendry probably could imagine if he thought about it hard enough, but that wasn't why he was here.

"So you've told her about the DNA?"

"Yeah" Jon groaned. "I told her as soon as we were alone, not that it's made a blind bit of difference to her. She doesn't see any harm in carrying on."

_Harm?_ That was a strange choice of word.

"Well, I have to agree with her. You suspected before anyway didn't you? And it didn't stop you then."

Jon glared at him. He obviously didn't like the truth being pointed out to him. Gendry continued, wanting to press his point home.

"All the DNA result did was confirm what you already knew. What _we _already knew. As soon as Renly told us Rhaegar Targaryen was your father, _we knew. _Ned and the DNA just confirmed it. We all knew and we all encouraged you and you loved it. Honestly mate. I've never seen you happier than those days in the Dorchester."

"I know" Jon groaned. "That's what makes it so goddamn awful. I'd been speaking to her for months and I knew we had something special. I thought she was _the one _– you know what I mean?"

Gendry nodded. He knew exactly what Jon meant. He always knew Arya was the one for him. He might not have realised it at first because she was so much younger, he might have tried to forget about it when she left Winterfell, but somewhere, somehow, he always _knew_.

"Instead it turns out the something special had was…_incest_". He spat the word out so loudly and with such vehemence that Gendry jumped.

Fucking hell! Why did he have to be the one to deal with this? Renly or even Loras would be so much better at this kind of emotional stuff than he was. Danni was downstairs waiting on Jon to tell him the wonderful news that he was going to be a dad, while Jon was up here shouting about incest. Dear God.

"Shut up and listen to me!" Gendry snapped. He felt like shaking some sense into Jon. Instead he listed all the points he could think of, to prove to Jon that it wasn't incest.

"You grew up in different countries! You met as adults, not knowing you were related! You've never even met your father! She hardly knows her brother as he's so much older than her – what is he, twenty two years older or something?"

"Twenty four" Jon muttered.

"See? And most importantly, you love Danni and she loves you – right?"

"I don't know about that." Jon mumbled, turning red and playing with the bezel on his Brietling watch – a present from Ned for his twenty first birthday. All the other Stark kids got a new Mercedes and Jon got a watch. A very nice watch – those pilot watches cost thousands of pounds, but it wasn't a Merc. Bloody Catelyn had put her foot down on that.

"Well, let's start with you first. Do _you _love _her?_" Gendry asked, confident the answer would be yes. He'd never seen Jon head over heels before, not even with that red haired Ygritte he'd been shagging on and off for years.

"I thought I did." Jon admitted, albeit rather reluctantly.

That would do.

"So you love her, we know she loves you…"

Jon snorted.

"What do you mean by that?" Gendry demanded. Jon was looking away, throwing bits of gravel over the edge again.

"She loves my cock I know that much!" he said angrily, missing the gap between the turrets with his next bit of gravel in his frustration.

"Do you think she doesn't love the rest of you?"

Jon groaned.

Even if Danni only loved that one bit of him (and from what Gendry had seen, she certainly did), Gendry was sure Danni would love all of him once she knew he was the father of her baby. Right? That was how those things worked wasn't it? As long as Jon married her, they'd live happily ever after. And Jon _would insist _on marrying her.

There was no way Jon would let any child of his grow up as a bastard, even if it didn't mean much these days. Gendry couldn't argue with that; he wouldn't want any child of his to be a bastard either, particularly now he was Lord Baratheon and, as Renly kept pointing out, needed an heir.

"She's the one! You know it, I know it and she knows it. Just marry her and to hell with what society thinks."

"You think I haven't thought about that? _She's my fucking aunt you stupid bastard! I can't marry my fucking aunt!"_

Gendry had _never_ heard Jon call anyone a bastard before. They'd been best mates for twenty odd years and he'd _never_ heard him use that word as an insult. To Jon, it was the most offensive word that could be hurled, one that had blighted his whole life. Jon could curse and blaspheme with the best of them, but use '_bastard_' – never.

Perhaps it was the shock of hearing Jon call him a 'stupid bastard' that gave Gendry his thunderbolt moment, but he was suddenly hit with the best idea he'd ever had.

"Yeah, well you're a _stupid bastard_ too, because you _can_ marry her if you want."

Jon just looked at him contemptuously.

"Right, stupid – listen to this…you're a bastard, I'm a bastard. Our fathers fucked off and left us and we've been carrying that loss, that stigma our whole lives – right?"

Jon took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "This bullshit better have a point…"

"But it's not all bad. Some good has got to come out of all that shit right? Look at me! I've got all this, I've got Arya…"

Jon groaned and pulled a face.

"Look at you, you're not Robb…"

"Thank fuck for that!"

"Exactly, so you can do whatever the hell you want! You're not chained to Winterfell like him and you can marry Danni if you want, because your birth certificate is piece of crap. It's a lie from start to finish; it says Ned's your father, some made up name for a mother – but they've done you a favour in the long run haven't they? Don't you see - you're not a Targaryen on paper and paper is all that matters to those cunts!"

Jon sat silently and threw another piece of gravel over the edge.

Gendry was so worked up, so excited that he'd just solved Jon's problem, he wanted to whoop and holler and run around, but Jon was just sitting there, saying nothing.

Gendry waited…and waited for Jon to say something. Eventually he came out with,

"_But I'll know…_"

"Oh fuck off! Who cares what you think?! You and your misplaced honour! I gave you the perfect solution and you want to throw it all away because it's not '_the right thing to do'_ in Jon world. Well I've got news for you; we're not living in 'Jon world' are we? Back in the _real_ world, society says you're a bastard but society also says you can marry her and you should use their own rules against them - you _stupid bastard_!"

There was another long pause.

"Ok, I'll think about it."

Gendry slapped his hand against his forehead. He how stubborn Jon was and that '_I'll think about it_' was as much as he was likely to get out of Jon at the moment. He just hoped Jon thought about it damn quick, as Danni was about to drop a massive bombshell on his precious 'Jon world'.

The two of them sat together, throwing pieces of gravel over the edge, for another while.

Gendry was too agitated to just sit quietly. He'd omitted the Cersi Lanister blow job bit when he'd told Arya how uptight he was, but the rest of what he'd told her was true. His skin felt like it was too tight and with every hour that passed, the urge to rip it open and reveal the wolf was growing stronger and he was getting hungry. Hungry for meat, hungry for sex, but he'd had sex already three times today and eaten all the meat and eggs Arya had in her flat and none of it had done anything to soothe this itch that he couldn't scratch.

He couldn't do anything about the impending Full Moon, but there was one other unwelcome issue he could deal with. He'd helped Jon with his problem; maybe Jon could help him with his.

"Seeing as we're having a misery fest. I've got a problem too."

Jon exhaled loudly. "Ok, spill. Thinking about your troubles, might make me forget about mine for 5 minutes."

"Ever since that afternoon with Cersi Lannister I've had a problem."

"Jesus! Don't tell me you can catch an SDT from a blow job!?"

"What? No! Well, I fucking hope you can't!" Gendry exclaimed. Trust bloody Jon to think of that.

"So do I, or we're both in the shit."

"Look, will you shut up and listen…it's not that. Ever since then, every time I hear the word 'blow' or 'job' or even seen an older blonde with big tits, I get this flashback to Cersi fucking Lannister with her fucking Nazi lips wrapped around my cock. I just can't get rid of the mental image. Her on her knees, the big tits, the green eyes, the bleached blonde hair sucking me off like there's no tomorrow."

"Hmm. I'm not surprised you can't forget it, she did look like a bit of a pro."

"Shut up! It's not that. If she ever comes near me again in my Goddamn life it'll be too soon. I just can't get rid of the fucking mental image. Like this morning, when Arya offered to give me a blow job…"

"Dude, she's my fucking sister, I don't want to hear that!"

"Cousin! And shut up about yourself will you! The point is; I don't know if I'll ever be able to have another woman's mouth on my cock without thinking about her. She's ruined it for me." Gendry moaned miserably. "Bloody Nazi bitch."

"It's probably because you feel guilty. Come on mate. You know there's nothing to feel guilty about. You _had_ to do it. I mean, we had to neutralise those pictures. I practically fucking begged you to do it! You took one for the team…I mean The Pack… and I never told you before how much I appreciate that mate. Seriously. We all do."

"I suppose you could be right – I feel guilty and I also think that maybe if I hadn't done that to her, Edric might not be in the fucking hospital now."

"Yeah, and those pictures might be the current internet sensation. You just don't know Gendry. Asking yourself '_what if?_' is pointless. It's a one way ticket to misery. You need to put it behind you and just get on with it."

"So, do I tell Arya?"

"No fucking way! Are you kidding me?! How do you think she'd take that?"

"We both know how she would take it and it wouldn't be pretty."

"It's done. Just shut the fuck up about it. I'm sure as soon as you get your next BJ… _God, I can't believe I'm discussing you getting a blow job off my sister_… you'll be fine."

"Oh, God, but so many people know. I'm worried she'll find out from someone else. Or worse, see the fucking video!"

"Quit worrying. No-one's going to show her that. They know you'd kill them for a start – right?"

"Right!"

"Come on, it was only a blow job. Look, I wasn't going to tell you this, but if it'll make you feel any better… I got one from Loras."

"_What the fuck!"_

"Yeah I know. See – you feel better already don't you?"

"I feel a bit sick if I'm being honest mate. Loras? You? I mean _what the fuck? _Are you bisexual or something? I mean, if you are, I'll be like totally supportive and all, but that thing with your balls that night was strictly a one off mate. I'm not up for a repeat performance. Ever. Ok? I just want to lay that on the table…"

"I fucking know that and _you_ know I'm straight."

Gendry looked askance at him. His expression said "Really?"

"Look, it was a couple of days ago. We got drunk and he started telling me I didn't know what I was missing, that a blow job from a man was so much better than from a woman…"

"And you fell for that bullshit right?"

"Piss off! Look, do you want to hear this or not?"

"Ok, ok. Carry on and I'll keep my thoughts to myself."

"It wasn't that. I really didn't care if it was a hundred times better, but what I did care about was him."

Gendry open his mouth to say "_you __**care**__ about Loras Tyrell?_" then, remembering his promise to keep his thoughts to himself, shut it again.

"He's been really good to me Gendry. From the beginning. Remember how he cleaned up after me when I'd…killed that guy in your flat? Where would I be now if he hadn't done that? You and Renly are away at the office all the time and Loras and me… we get on, you know. The stuff he's shown me, taught me, helped me. I can't ever pay that back and I know he's into me. Hell, you noticed it before I did and I was drunk and I've decided I'm leaving, so I thought… _you know what Loras, if you want it that much and it's going to make you happy…what the hell…_"

"_What the hell…_" Gendry echoed in disbelief and then his brain finally picked up on the '_I've decided I'm leaving_' part.

"_You're leaving?_ I thought your future was here, with all of us?" Gendry was shocked. Not just shocked, devastated. What about The Pack? He assumed Jon would stay, that they would be a team like Loras and Renly; that the four of them were in this together, for life.

"It's too …controlled here for me. I like the wild, being outdoors. Doing what Loras does is not for me. Keeping you lot safe is like herding cats! And look at the mess we're in with Edric."

The shock on Gendry's face turned to pain at the mention of Edric's name. Jon decided to continue his explanation with a bit more sensitivity,

"Come on Gendry, this office thing isn't for you either. If you think you're going to be happy sitting in your designer suit, in your designer office talking shit with the rest of the suits until you retire at 65, then you're kidding yourself."

Jon was right. Gendry had known after his first day in that damn office that it wasn't for him. He just hadn't admitted it to anyone else yet.

"But what about The Pack? What about us? The Werewolf thing? I thought you wanted that?"

"I do. Come on! Who wouldn't want that?"

Gendry could think of one person straight away – Arya.

"The strength, the power, the reactions…and Loras tells me the sex is great."

"Don't fucking start with that again!" Gendry groaned.

"Ok, but you can still bite me tomorrow night and to be honest mate, I hope it's just you as the thought of getting bitten by all three of you…well…I don't want to be bitten by Loras…or Renly."

"Well I'll do my best Jon, but I can't promise. I have no idea how this Alpha thing works."

"It can't be that complicated can it – I mean they're still fucking animals aren't they – wolves. Just make sure you let Loras and Renly know who the boss is and you'll be fine."

Jon had hit the nail on the head. He was determinedto be the Alpha, but how did he make Loras, with all his strategic and combative abilities and Renly with all his smarts, bow to _his _will. He had no idea. His head hurt when he thought about it and anyway, he was still trying to get his head around Jon and Loras.

"Does Renly know about you and Loras?"

"Well I'm not going to bloody tell him am I? And anyway, we're back to the point of my telling you in the first place – it was _only _a blow job."

The two of them threw pieces of gravel over the parapet again.

"So, have I made you feel any better?" Jon asked.

"Honestly? No mate." Gendry sighed heavily. "I feel life just gets more and more complicated. If I could, I would swap all this to be back in Winterfell with you and Arya and have everything the way it used to be."

"Well I wouldn't."

Gendry raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Not knowing who my mother was; if she was dead or alive, not knowing where I fitted in, only that it wasn't in Winterfell and wasting my time in a dead end job, getting paid peanuts to line Ned Stark's pockets! Nah. I'm glad I left, glad you got all this, glad you brought me along for the ride and I'm never going back. My future's out there somewhere and I'm going to grab it."

"So where are you going to go?"

"I want to go find my father. I _need_ to meet him. Presumably Danni knows where I can find him."

"Maybe you could go together?"

Jon pulled a face.

"And so we've come full circle. She wants to speak to you remember? And Jon…don't forget all those months you spent skyping each other and how happy she made you. Some things happen for a reason you know … and I'm here for you mate. Me and Arya, we'll always be here for you. You need _anything… anything at all_…money, a house you just name it, ok?"

"What are you on about? I'm telling you I'm leaving and you're going on about a fucking house. Why would I need a house?"

"Just go see Danni, ok?"

"Ok" Jon groaned as he stood up and stretched his legs. "You coming?"

"Last I heard she was in Arya's room…I mean my room… so yeah, I'll walk you down."

"Race you down the stairs? And none of that Werewolf shit or I'll rip your throat out, next full moon."

"You can fucking try mate…you can fucking try!" he laughed, watching Jon sprint ahead. Gendry decided to let him have a head start. _What the hell…_maybe he'd even let Jon win. It could be his last chance. Danni's news might change _everything_.


	29. Chapter 29 - Tonight's the night

**Chapter 29**

**Tonight's the night **

Jon was grinning from ear to ear when he knocked on the door. He'd won and it felt good.

Arya answered. She looked delighted to see him.

"Hi! Is Danni here? Gendry said she wants to see me?" he panted, between gasped breaths.

Arya didn't reply, she just held the door open for him. He could see Danni sitting drinking a cup of tea. He looked behind for Gendry, who had just arrived.

"Ha! Beat you!"

Gendry just smiled.

Jon looked from Gendry to Arya and back.

"Are you two up to something?"

"We were just leaving!" Arya hissed at Gendry.

"Woa!" Jon yelled. "What's going on?" He placed his palm flat against the door frame, so Arya couldn't get past without ducking under his arm. Arya looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights.

Gendry intervened "I need to talk to Arya! You need to talk to Danni!" he declared, as he strode past Jon, took Arya by the arm and marched her into their bedroom. He kicked the door closed behind them, leaving a perplexed Jon and an anxious Danni in the main room.

"I was trying to leave!" Arya hissed at Gendry, extracting her arm from his grip.

"You weren't doing a very good job! He was getting suspicious!"

"Oh, and you're good at this sort of thing are you?" she huffed sarcastically "You were away for ages! I had a hell of a job trying to keep Danni calm. I had to spend an hour weaving bells into her hair, while she cried and wanted to go and find him and cried some more!"

"Why was she crying?" Gendry asked, bewildered. "Why isn't she happy?"

"She is happy – stupid! She's so happy she's crying!"

Gendry rolled his eyes. Bloody women. He'd never understand them. Who the hell cried because they were happy?

"Some Doctor told her years ago she would never be able to have kids and that's why she wasn't on the pill or anything. She thinks it's a miracle, that it's fate and she and Jon were always meant to be together."

"Phew!" Gendry sighed with relief. At least that one was half of the problem solved.

"How was Jon?"

Good question. "Fucked up" was probably the best answer, but he didn't think Arya would appreciate hearing that.

"Umm. He'll be fine. Wants to go and find his father though."

"Oh!" Arya didn't know why she was surprised. Now she thought about it, the only surprising thing was that he hadn't gone already.

"Did you know Danni had read about him before she met him?" she asked Gendry.

"No!"

"She was telling me she saw a picture of him climbing an ice wall in one of those outdoors magazines and it was captioned 'Jon Snow'. Apparently he's like amazingly good and she says that as soon as she saw that picture, she got Goosebumps and knew she had to get in touch with him. And now they're having a baby. I mean – how romantic is that?"

Arya beamed with happiness and pride for her brother/cousin. Gendry could almost see the rose-tinted spectacles she seemed to be wearing.

Gendry had seen the picture. It was framed in Jon's room, but Jon had never said it was published anywhere. If Gendry remembered rightly, Ygritte had taken it. How ironic was that? Your ex- girlfriend takes the picture that introduces you to your (hopefully) wife.

Gendry muttered something non-committal. He had assumed Jon got to know Danni through Griff, but perhaps it had been the other way around. He'd never bothered to ask and he certainly wasn't going to mention fucking Griff in front of Arya unless he had to. Jon could explain all that to her sometime. All Gendry intended to do was make sure he never left Arya alone with Griff. He didn't trust that blue haired wanker at all.

Arya's happy, romantic bubble had apparently floated back down to earth and she was now worrying about the practicalities.

"But what are they going to do? She's his aunt so they can't get married and he'll go mad if he thinks he's brought a bastard into the world.

Gendry was unbelievably proud that he was able to tell Arya he had solved that problem.

"Ah! That's what you think! But I told him his birth certificate doesn't say Targaryen. Ned's down as his father, so he can marry her if he wants!" Gendry puffed up his chest with pride at his ingenuity.

"Oh! Clever boy!" she kissed him happily on the cheek. He'd hoped for a bit more of a reward than a peck on the cheek though.

"Do you think they'll be ok?"

"Sure" Gendry smiled. And he was sure. They loved each other and that was all that mattered, wasn't it?

The two of them sat in silence for a while.

Arya was thinking about another wedding and what her mother would think about it. She wondered if Danni was rich. That might make a difference to Catelyn's opinion of the match. Her mother would certainly be delighted if it meant that Jon would stay away from Winterfell.

Gendry was thinking about getting Arya pregnant and about getting some practice in right now. Her skirt kept riding up every time she moved, revealing more and more of her smooth, brown thighs. He wanted what was between those thighs. She'd reluctantly agreed not to shower that morning and the lingering, musky smell of their lovemaking was driving him mad. Why would a woman want to smell of soap and deodorant when she could smell of lust and sex and _life?_ Arya smelled amazing and the more he thought about it, the less he could think about anything else.

"I wonder what they're talking about?" Arya asked, waking him from his hot sex fantasy.

"Huh? I can tell you – if you _really_ want to know."

She was torn. She knew she shouldn't, but she wanted to know and if Gendry could hear, he knew anyway…

"Ohhh, go on then."

He got off the bed and sat on the floor beside the door. He didn't need to – he could hear Jon and Danni just as well from the bed, but if he sat on the floor he would be able to see right up Arya's skirt and right now, that was a very tempting proposition. He sat down directly in front of her, his back against the wall. Yes – he had been right. He could now see up her skirt. It was too shadowy to see details, but he could see the plump outline of her cunt, nestled at the top of those thighs.

"So….what are they saying?"

Gendry struggled to pull himself back to reality. This was getting ridiculous, the closer he got to the Full Moon, the more he wanted…needed… physical gratification. He felt as if he could fuck her constantly for the next 24 hours if she'd let him.

"She seems to have shown him the test. The stupid bastard didn't know what it was, she had to tell him and he's just asked 'is it mine?'"

Arya clamped her hands over her mouth in horror.

"If you ever put me in the position where I have to ask that…!" he growled.

"I won't!" she hissed. "What's happening now?"

He cocked his head to the side.

"All quiet."

"What does that mean?" Arya asked anxiously.

"I'd take it as a good sign – screaming and yelling would be bad."

Gendry narrowed his eyes, straining to hear. "Whispering. I can't make out what. Wet noises. Might be kissing."

"Ohh, thank goodness!" Arya sagged with relief.

"So you're going to be an auntie?"

Arya beamed. "I suppose I am. That means, when we get married, you'll be an uncle."

"I'd rather be a dad."

Arya groaned with frustration.

"I know Babe. You keep telling me."

She slid down off the bed and crawled on all fours towards him. He found that unexpectedly, unbelievable erotic. He visualised himself as the wolf, behind her, sniffing that hot, molten cunt, mounting her, fucking that arse.

She knelt between his legs, kissed his forehead and stroked his face, presumably trying to let him know she still loved him, even though she wasn't exactly enamoured with the idea of having his baby.

"So…?" he growled

"So… what's the rush?" she replied gently, kissing him again, but on the lips this time. He kissed her back, but only briefly. He wasn't finished talking yet.

"Why wait? I've been thinking about it and people wait because they don't have the money to raise a kid, or they're not sure if they _really_ love each other."

She tried to kiss him again, but he turned his head away, so she couldn't reach his mouth to silence him.

"We don't have either of those problems…so why are we waiting? I never realised how important family was to me until you came back into my life Arya. After my mum died I had none, but now I've got you and Edric and Renly and I want what Jon's got. I want a family of my own. Come on…wouldn't it be great if we had a kid at the same time as Danni and Jon?"

She followed his mouth with hers, finding his lips again and finally silencing him with a deep, intense kiss. It was her that pulled away first this time.

"I've got a bone to pick with you _LB_!" She put a very heavy, sarcastic emphasis on Margaery's nickname for him.

He groaned and grimaced. She'd managed to change the subject, he knew he was going to get the blame for something and she'd noticed the 'LB' thing.

"What particular bone is that?"

"When you were in the gym and asked me to jump."

He was relived it wasn't about Margaery. "Yeah…and…?"

"Am I your dog? Think you can you order me around in front of your Pack? Arya jump! Arya come here! Arya fetch! Don't do that to me again and don't think that, just because you dare me, means that I'm going to do it!"

"It was just a bit of fun. I never meant it like that!"

"Yeah, well that's what it sounded like to me and another thing…I hear Margaery likes to watch you in the gym?!"

He rolled his eyes and groaned. He also looked embarrassed. Caught!

"We're there anyway. I don't know why she does it!"

"Well I bloody well know! She fancies you _LB_!"

He could hardly deny it. It was obvious now Jon had pointed it out to him. All he could do was look sheepish and hope she forgave him. Forgave him for _what_ he didn't know. He hadn't done anything to encourage Margaery, but he knew better than to try and argue with Arya when she got an idea in her head.

"I don't fancy her. Only you Babe."

He tried to kiss her, but she evaded his attempt, glaring at him angrily, her grey eyes dark as gathering storm clouds. He had to dissipate that storm before it really broke on him, so he tickled her and she laughed. That was his secret weapon; tickling always lightened the mood.

"Stop it!" she hissed as she wriggled between his thighs, which he found to be a _very _pleasing sensation.

"You know what? We stink!?" she said suddenly, wrinkling her pretty nose.

He had to laugh.

"If you call the magical lingering aroma of our love making "a stink", then yeah we do and it's driving me Goddamn crazy!"

"People will talk you know…. 'here comes stinky Gendarya' they'll say!"

"Let them" he growled, burying his nose in the hair behind her ear, inhaling deeply, savouring her unique, wonderful scent before licking her neck slowly from her shoulder, up to her ear and finishing by nibbling gently on her ear lobe.

She groaned with pleasure.

Her groan was answered with a louder, more urgent one from the other room, followed by the faint sound of the bells in Danni's hair tinkling wildly.

They both laughed. Obviously Jon and Danni were making up nicely.

"You realise we're trapped in here now don't you?" she whispered. "What are we gonna do to pass the time… big boy?"

"Hmm, a game of scrabble?" he said seriously.

She punched him, which obviously meant - he let her punch him.

"Are you not even going to pretend that hurt?"

He snorted. "No"

She got up and eased her legs over his, so she was straddling his crotch. She rolled her hips, grinding herself down onto the bulge in his jeans. A huge grin spread across his face.

"Better than scrabble?" she asked, with a wicked gleam in her eye.

He slid his hands up her thighs, stopping short of her hips and reaching around to stroke that soft crease where the top of her thighs met her arse. She was soft and warm under his touch and it was all he could do not to throw her on her back and fuck her there and then.

"Hmmm, I'm not sure."

She pulled her blouse over her head, revealing one of the Agent Provocateur black bras they had bought together weeks before. It looked great; under wired, pushing her breasts up and together, lace barely covering her rapidly hardening nipples.

"Hmmm, getting better."

He hooked his thumbs in the lace cups, and freed her breasts from the lace. They looked even better now, standing proud above the lace, begging for his attention. He rubbed his thumbs over each one, staring in wonder as they crinkled and grew under his touch. Arya arched her back, offering them up to him. He greedily sucked on one, knowing he was pleasuring her, by the soft little moaning sounds she was making. He turned his attention to the other, sucking and flicking it with his tongue until she was so desperate for more she had to push him away. She clawed at his belt, loosening it, undoing the buttons on his jeans, working her hand inside them, then inside his underpants. He groaned as her cool hand found his throbbing cock.

"How about now?" she asked as she freed his cock. She wrapped her hand around his shaft and gently eased his foreskin back, smiling to herself as she saw a huge drop of pre-cum ooze from the glistening tip. Licking her lips, she slowly eased his foreskin all the way up again.

"Ahhh…that feels good."

"I've got something to make it feel even better" she whispered huskily and stretched over to her open suitcase, lying nearby on the floor.

She had to almost crawl off him, as the case was just out of her reach. He watched her intently as she stretched; enjoying the way he caught glimpses of her bare breasts through the curtain of her hair. He pushed the flimsy skirt up over her back so he could see her bare arse, the little gauze thong, curving high over her hips and disappearing down into the crack of her arse, making his mouth water with anticipation.

When she sat back up again, she had bit of clear plastic and metal in her hand, a tube of lube in the other and a wicked gleam in her eye.

"What the hell is that?"

"Your bull ring. Loras and I bought it for you." She teased with a dirty laugh.

"Mentioning him again and I'll lose this Goddamn erection!"

He watched rather apprehensively as she proceeded to smear the inside of the series of interconnected rings with the lube. On the end of the last ring was a plastic bull's head, with a metallic, vibrating bullet sticking out of each side of the bull's head – like horns.

"You've got to be kidding me!" He said hoarsely.

"Nope" she giggled "It reminded me of you."

She worked the sleeve down over his shaft, his cock bulging out between the tight rings. Then she twisted one end of the bull's 'horns' and the silver bullet vibrated into life.

"That feels good" he moaned, his voice thick with desire "It feels like my cock's going to explode."

"Mmmm, I think that's the point!" she purred, sitting up and pulling the scrap of material that claimed to be a thong, to the side and positioned herself on the tip of his cock.

"I think I might have changed my mind – a game of scrabble sounds good after all." She giggled, teasing him as she pulled up and away, at the same time he lifted his hips, trying to drive his cock home.

A growl came from deep in his throat as he grabbed her hips, pushing her down as he thrust up, plunging into her so deeply and so suddenly that she gasped with shock and unexpected pain.

"Shit! Sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you! Are you ok?!"

His face was stricken with horror at the thought that he'd hurt her.

She shook her head, but she was still biting her bottom lip. He tried to explain,

"It's just getting harder to control myself the nearer we get to the Full Moon. I'm so sorry. Do you want me to stop?"

"No. I'm ok; it's just that you're so damn huge anyway and with that thing on too..." She grinned as she lifted herself up, higher, but not enough to allow him to withdraw. The pain had only been fleeting and only caused by him going so deep, so fast. Relief spread over his face.

With his help, supporting her hips, she slowly eased down slightly, then up, carefully ensuring she was ready to take all of him, before she sank down on his shaft as far as she could go. His eyes closed and his lips curled back exposing perfectly white, straight teeth.

"Fuck, this feels so good I could stay like this for ever."

"So you don't want me to do this?" she rolled her hips around, gripping him with her internal muscles, while pulling up, until his cock almost slipped out. He groaned with pleasure.

"Or this?" She asked, slowly easing herself down again, like he'd shown her to do, when she was still a novice at fucking.

She wasn't a naive little virgin now. He'd taught her well. She knew how to pleasure him and exactly what he liked.

"Rip my skirt off so you can watch" she whispered softly against his ear. He didn't need to be told twice and in seconds her skirt was lying in tatters around them.

Arya arched her back, letting her head drop back and her breasts thrust out, so he could see all of her and watch his tethered cock disappear into her waxed pussy.

"Uh…Uh..." she panted, every time the bull's head hit her clit. It was heightening the already erotic sensation of the straining lace of her thong rubbing on her clit and between the cheeks of her bottom as she rode him. His burning hands slid down from her hips until they were on the cheeks of her arse, pulling them apart. She felt a finger probe the tight little hole of her anus. It felt so good, but wrong and dangerous at the same time.

"You're my dirty little bitch aren't you?" he demanded breathlessly as he worked his finger against her arse and began to thrust his cock up into her, increasing the pace she had set.

"I…I don't know about this." She panted, feeling his finger press harder as he fucked her faster.

"But you did it to me – remember?" He growled, grabbing her hips. "You wouldn't have double standards, would you Miss Sark?"

With a guttural snarl, he sprang off the floor, taking her by surprise as he propelled them both up. She looped her arms around the back of his neck, and her legs around his waist in a frantic attempt to hang on.

He threw her on her back on the bed. He stood above her, his cock encased by the now wet and glistening sex toy, rearing straight up like some kind of ravenous monster.

"Get on your front!"

"You're not going to…"

He roughly rolled her over, pushing her shoulders down, so her arse stuck up in the air.

"Not that!"

As tempting as her arse was, that would take patience and time, neither of which he had at that moment. What he did have was an urgent, primal need to mate.

He had his cock in her wet cunt before she had finished pleading with him, his hands spreading the cheeks of her arse apart, watching intently as the head of the bull ring butted against her anus instead of her clit. He'd claim that tight, brown hole soon enough, but for now he'd make do with thrusting into her cunt like the animal he was; pumping so hard that, if he hadn't been pulling her hips back with every thrust, she would have been forced off the bed. He was close and he _needed _this. Even if she'd told him to stop now he couldn't have.

He came with a guttural, animal roar, pumping his seed into her, holding her in place as he wrenched every last drop of pleasure from his orgasm. As soon as she felt that initial huge pulse, her body answered, exploding in an orgasm of its own. When he had given her every last drop, he collapsed on top of her, supporting his weight with his arms, so as not to crush her. She was hot and damp with sweet sweat, still wriggling and gasping with ecstasy beneath him. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the sex smell of his mate. His need for her was too raw, his hunger too intense and he bit her.

She cried out in shock and pain, trying to roll him off her back.

He straightened up and pulled out, letting go of her hips, allowing her to crawl across the bed, away from him.

He was panting with exertion and triumph. He had just experienced one of the best, most intense orgasms of his life. If this was a taste of what was to come, then his father had been right – the sex was going to be fucking amazing.

She finished examining her shoulder and then hugged her knees up to her chest, staring at him with wide eyes from across the bed, while he removed the cock ring.

"You bit me! I thought you were going to take a chunk out of my shoulder. You really scared me Gendry." She said in a small voice.

"Did I break the skin?"

"I don't think so."

"Well, that's ok then. Isn't it?"

She looked at him warily. He held his arms out and she, reluctantly, crawled across the bed to him. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. There was no blood, but he could see the impression his teeth had left on her skin, where her shoulder ended and her neck began. The points of his sharp wolf incisors were unmistakeable. He licked his lips as he watched the carotid artery in her neck pulse with life. He could hear her heart race. The pungent, overwhelming aroma of their fucking filled his nostrils and it was all he could do to stop himself biting her again. He must have been a hair's breadth away from drawing blood. She would have a sizeable bruise come the morning.

"I got a bit…carried away. Just think of it as a love bite." He smiled, trying to make light of it and kissing her shoulder where he'd bitten her minutes before.

"That's not my idea of love! There might not be any blood, but it bloody hurt and I didn't like it. I've told you - I'm _not_ becoming what you are. One of us being a Werewolf is bad enough."

That wasn't what he wanted to hear, but he stayed silent.

"Is this what the Full Moon is doing to you?"

"I guess it must be, but it felt so _fucking good_ Arya. I've never felt so alive!"

"Well, you scared me and I think we'd better take a break from sex until after…"

He couldn't hide his disappointment. He wanted to fuck her and bite her under the silver light of the Full Moon. He wanted her to truly join his Pack, become his wolf mate and, one way or another, it _would_ happen. He knew it. Just as he'd know she was 'the one'.

But he couldn't risk really hurting her, or worse, scaring her off before she was ready.

And she was right; sex was getting too risky. At the last moment he'd reined himself in and not bitten down, clamping his jaws on her shoulder, but he couldn't guarantee he'd be able to stop himself next time. With ever passing hour, the wolf inside him was getting stronger; readying itself for sunset tomorrow, when it would finally take over and there was _nothing_ he could do to stop it.

So he reluctantly agreed; no more sex until after the Full Moon. He would have to try and be patient, but he didn't know if he could. He tried not to think about tomorrow and to savour the moment. He kissed her tenderly and held her, until she relaxed into his arms.

They were beginning to doze off in the hazy afterglow, when he was jolted awake by a purposeful knocking she couldn't hear.

"Someone's at the door."

Arya jumped up, looking around for her clothes and groaning when she saw her shredded skirt on the floor.

"Not our bedroom door. The main door." He clarified. They still had time.

All he had to do was button up his jeans. She had to retrieve her top and find another skirt.

By now, even Arya could hear voices.

"It's bloody Marg" Gendry groaned, buckling his belt and watching Arya hunt through her, still unpacked suitcase, for something to replace her ruined skirt.

"Ready?" he asked, watching her fasten another, floaty summer skirt around her waist. '_Pity I'm not going to get the chance to rip that one_ _off'_ he thought ruefully.

She nodded and he opened their bedroom door.

Margaery was standing in the middle of the adjoining room, beside a clothes rail on wheels. Several garment bags of varying sizes hung from the rail; presumably containing their costumes.

Arya was more concerned with Jon and Danni. She needn't have worried, as both were grinning from ear to ear. Danni was flushed and the little bells, that Arya had spent an hour weaving into her hair were looking rather skewed. It seemed as if Arya and Gendry hadn't been the only ones indulging in a little opportunistic shagging.

Danni looked expectantly at Jon, who squeezed her hand and nodded

"We 'av news!"

Arya struggled to keep a huge grin from her face. She wasn't supposed to know yet.

Danni and Jon looked at each other again, both of their faces shining with joy.

"I asked Danni to marry me and she agreed!" Jon whooped, scooping Danni up and twirling her around so that she shrieked with excitement. Arya remembered when he used to do that to her. Soon he'd be doing it to another little girl or boy. Jon would be such a good dad. Gendry would be too – if she let him.

When Jon finally put Danni down, she breathlessly told Margaery "and we are 'aving zee baby!"

While Margaery rushed over to congratulate them both, hugging Danni and Jon in turn, Arya turned to her man, tears pricking her eyes.

"Ok. I'll do it."

"Our baby?" he asked quietly, gazing intently into her grey eyes.

She nodded and he hugged her to him, lifting her feet off the floor as he buried his face in her hair and whispered "I love you" against her ear.

"Hey you two! Get a room!" Jon yelled.

Danni giggled and nudged Jon in the ribs. Gendry put Arya down and she had to wipe a tear from her eye. Danni rushed over to her and they hugged for ages.

"We're all delighted and I don't want to be a spoil sport, but we need to get ready." Margaery interrupted – proving she was indeed a spoil sport.

"I need to go and tell Loras and Renly." Jon said excitedly, after Gendry had shaken his hand and then pulled him into a man hug. "You want to come too Danni?"

"No. You tell your friends. I will stay 'ere with mine" Danni smiled, giving Arya another hug.

"Umm, I'll come with you." Gendry muttered, wanting to share his own good news with Jon and also thinking that, if he told Renly, his uncle might finally get off his back about producing an heir.

"You'd better take these then boys" Margaery purred, handing each of them a small package.

Gendry looked at the stuffed, full length, garment bags hanging on the rail and then at his small parcel and groaned. It looked like his instincts had been right. Whatever costume Loras had chosen for him, there wasn't much of it and, judging by the smaller size of Jon's parcel – there was even less to his.

"We girls will get ready here and we'll meet you in the Ballroom. Ok?" Margaery asked in a way that sounded more like an order. God, she could certainly sound like Loras when she tried.

Jon and Gendry looked at each other. Jon shrugged, so they agreed and left the girls to get ready, but not before Jon ran back and gave Danni a long, passionate kiss. Gendry winked at Arya, mouthed 'love you' and with that, the two of them were gone.

-o-

"Jesus Christ! Will you look at this?!" Gendry exclaimed as he ripped open the package Margaery had given him. The coarse grey tunic, short brown waistcoat and brown breeches meant nothing to him. However, the tub of green body paint and the green head band with two, weird, trumpet shaped, ears stuck on either side, gave the game away – Shrek!

"I don't know if mine is much better!" Jon laughed, holding up a small leather loincloth and a bottle of baby oil.

"That's it? That's all you've got?!" Gendry choked.

"Well, I've also got a sword, a pop up shield, fake metal shin guards and a pair of sandals!" Jon drew the shield out of its nylon pocket and it immediately unfurled. It actually looked quite convincing from the front, but from the back it looked like a kid's toy kite.

"Nice!" Gendry drawled sarcastically. "You're either Spartacus or a male stripper!"

"Mate, I'm not complaining – it's better than fucking Shrek!" Jon cackled "Actually, I can see the similarity. Shrek's thick and farts a lot too - doesn't he?"

"Piss off!"

Gendry threw the headband with the ears at Jon, who sidestepped it easily.

"Seriously though, I'm not wearing that." Gendry huffed.

"If I was you, I'd be more worried that Arya's going to be Shrek's girlfriend. Princess Fiona isn't it?"

"How the fuck do you know her name?! Are you sure you're not gay – Princess Jon?!"

Jon threw his bottle of baby oil at Gendry's head.

"Well I'm not swapping. I think Danni might dig me in this." Jon grinned as he held the loincloth in front of his crotch and did a few, male stripper type, pelvic thrusts.

"Yeah, no doubt. So will Loras - they'll both want to shag you if you wear that!"

"Ha, bloody ha!"

Gendry looked at his tub of green paint despondently. _Bloody Shrek. Bloody Loras._

"Why don't you turn it into the Hulk?" Jon suggested. "You've got the green paint, the bulging muscles and the tiny brain. All you need to do is cut off a pair of jeans and you're sorted!"

"Brilliant! Hulk's cool! Thanks mate." Gendry grinned. "Got any scissors?"

Gendry set to work hacking at his jeans, while Jon disappeared into the bathroom and came out a few minutes later wearing his tiny costume.

"What do you think?"

Gendry looked up and guffawed with laughter.

"What? I thought it looked quite good!" Jon spluttered as he flexed his biceps and his impressively honed pectoral muscles, as if trying to prove his point.

"You look like Neanderthal ape man! You're too fucking hairy for that mate!"

Jon looked down. He'd never thought about it before, but he now realised those gladiators on TV all had smooth, oiled, hair free bodies.

"I still think it'll do." Jon huffed, as he looked at himself in the mirror. Then he turned, caught sight of his hairy shoulders and arse and groaned. "My God, from the back I look like I'm wearing woolly trousers."

"Told you!" Gendry snorted. "From the back you look like Neanderthal goat man!"

"Fuck off! At least I can shave it all off."

"Good luck mate! You'd better get started. That lot could take you all night!"

Jon stomped off into the bathroom to start shaving.

Gendry was still laughing by the time he had finished chopping his jeans. He pulled them on, decided they looked sufficiently Hulk like and then took his shirt off. He was pretty hairy himself, but he didn't think it would be too noticeable under the green body paint. He opened the jar and smeared a dollop across his chest. Shit! His chest was green alright, but it looked like it had six lane highway of body hair running across it. He smeared the paint the other way. Shit! That was worse! He had a big, green, matted swirl of hair right in the centre of his chest.

He yelled at Jon through the bathroom door, "Got a spare razor in there?"

Jon opened the door, shaving foam smeared across his chest and the centre of his stomach. There were a few bare strips where he'd drawn the razor through the foam.

"This is fucking impossible! I can't see what I'm doing and if I try and look in the mirror I just go the wrong way. You'll need to help me!"

"I'm not shaving you! Phone Loras, I'm sure he'd love to – but I'm sure as hell not!"

"Here then! Try it yourself." Jon threw a spare razor at Gendry. Of course he caught it perfectly. "I'm dying to see how you get on with shaving your own back - smart arse!"

"I don't need to shave my back!" Gendry yelped with indignation.

"Ha! That's what you think! And good luck with getting an even green coverage between your shoulder blades!"

Gendry swore under his breath. Jon was right. No way could he paint his own back green.

"Ok, but don't you ever tell _anyone_ about this – especially not bloody Loras!"

"Agreed! Right – are you going to do me first?"

"Shut the fuck up! I'm not going to '_do you_' ! Ever! Period!" Gendry ranted. "Just give me your Goddamn razor and let me get on with it."

Jon handed over his Gillette and they returned to the bathroom, where Gendry got to work.

"Watch my nipple!" Jon bellowed as the edge of the razor brushed against it.

"If you say another word I'm going to shave the fucking thing off. I'm trying to pretend this isn't happening. Right?! Your talking just reminds me it's Goddamn real and I am in a fucking toilet shaving your fucking chest and next and I'm going to have to shave your Goddamn hairy arse! So shut the fuck up!"

Jon tried to stifle a laugh, but that only made his chest heave as he tried to hold it in.

Gendry swore again. "That nipple's going to get it if you don't stop moving!"

Jon couldn't contain himself any longer and started guffawing with laughter. At first Gendry was mad at him, but even he had to admit the situation was too ridiculous. He couldn't stay angry and joined in, laughing along with his best mate.

"I think we need a time out and a drink." Jon eventually spluttered.

"Yeah – like a wet the baby's head practice session!"

"Ok – I'll get the whisky."

As soon as Jon left, Gendry held his right hand out, fingers splayed, palm level. Sure enough it was shaking, Jon was right to be worried about his nipple. Gendry held his hand up and unleashed his claws; cruel, hard and black. The shaking immediately stopped. He flexed his fingers, admiring the lethal beauty of his claws. As soon as he withdrew them, the tremble began again. Gendry gritted his teeth and clenched his shaking hand into a fist. Still just over 24 hours to go. What the hell kind of state was he going to be in by then? It was hard to admit he was scared…but he was.

Jon was soon back, sitting on the edge of the bath, still lathered up, while Gendry sat on the closed lid of the toilet and the two of them sipped very generous measures of the Isle of Skye's famous malt whisky.

"What are you hoping for? A boy or a girl?" Gendry asked, swirling the golden liquid around his glass.

"A girl that looks like Danni I suppose. Better that than a boy that looks like me!"

"Don't be too hard on yourself. You might get a boy that looks like Griff!" Gendry roared with laughter.

Jon simply smiled and took another swig of his whisky.

"Have you told Arya that Griff's related to Danni and me yet?" Jon wondered.

"Fuck no! Do you know she went to see Fire and Blood without us? Went to the bloody backstage party and that big bodyguard Brienne fucked Duck?"

Jon guffawed with laughter. "Sounds about right! Those two were made for each other!"

"So nah, I think she's too interested in him already. Tell her he's your half brother and she'll be inviting him over for dinner and all that shit."

"Well mate, it's gonna happen. Either you tell her or I'll have to and the longer you leave it the worse it'll be."

"Have you even told Griff yet?" Gendry asked, wanting to avoid having to talk about why he'd not told Arya.

"No." Jon looked embarrassed. "To be honest, I was trying to stay away from Danni, so I've been avoiding him too, but obviously all that's changed now."

The two of them looked at their drinks and simultaneously took another gulp of whisky.

Jon looked across at Gendry with a wicked twinkle in his eye. "Hey, what do you think about Griff as my best man?"

Gendry looked up and Jon saw expressions of first surprise, then disappointment and finally resignation flicker across his best mate's face.

Gendry didn't answer the question, instead asking Jon very seriously "Will you be mine?"

Jon raised his eyebrows. "What about Edric?"

_Yeah, what about Edric? _It didn't seem right to be drinking whisky and messing around with Jon while Edric lay dying in the hospital, but there was _nothing_ he could do about that either – at least not for another 24 hours. Gendry gave a long, heartfelt sigh before answering.

"You and I go way back. You saved my life and I'm never going to forget that. So do you want the Goddamn job or not?"

Jon grinned. "Sure!"

Gendry raised his glass to Jon "Cheers to my best man!"

"And to mine!" Jon replied. The two of them drained down the last of the malt whisky.

"I was only kidding about Griff, by the way!" Jon chuckled.

"I knew you were. Danni would never let you! His fucking blue hair would ruin the wedding photos!"

They both laughed.

"Hey, do you think Loras really got Arya a female Shrek costume?" Gendry asked, suddenly concerned.

"Nah! He likes her too much for that. Anyway, he's already told me – she's the Queen of Hearts."

Gendry snorted. Arya would hate that.

"Margaery's the Liza Minelli character from Cabaret." When Gendry looked blank Jon explained "You know the one – black bowler hat, stockings, shorts."

"Oh yeah" Gendry muttered. "Thanks for the heads up. I'll avoid her like the plague then. Come on, we better get back to shaving or those girls will be ready quicker than us for once and they'll never let us forget it!"

-o-

Danni nipped along the corridor to pick her costume up from Jon's room, while Arya unpacked the rest of the garment bags. Margaery made herself useful by opening a bottle of pink champagne.

"Pity Danni can't have any. All the more for us!" Margaery said gleefully as she handed Arya a glass.

Arya swallowed most of the champagne down in one gulp, trying not to choke on the bubbles. God, she was going to need something to take the edge off if she had to spend time with Margaery.

Margaery immediately topped up Arya's glass and her own. That was the only good thing she could say about Margaery - she was a good hostess.

Margaery's Cabaret costume was just as Arya expected; shiny black wig, huge false eyelashes, halter neck top, hot pants, stockings and suspenders.

Arya was excited and apprehensive as she slid the zip down on the bulging garment bag that held her own costume. What had Loras chosen for her? The bag was so fat it could have contained a Sumo suit.

It didn't. Instead Loras had sent her a huge, old fashioned, ball gown. It was mostly white, frilly, dotted with red love hearts and had a big ruffle around the neck; the 'Queen of Hearts' and Arya hated it.

Yuk! Why would anyone want to cover themselves in love hearts? There was a red, curly wig with a tall, narrow gold crown sewn on top. Arya tried it on and promptly ripped it off again – she looked like Princess Sansa! No way was she wearing that.

Was this Loras' idea of a joke? Maybe Gendry had been given Prince Charming. He'd _love _that too – not!

Arya supposed she should be flattered that Loras though she was Queen of Hearts, but Loras should have known by now that she wasn't a hearts and flowers kind of girl.

"I think you'll look great." Margaery gushed. "I wish my brother put as much thought into choosing mine!"

"I'm off to get a shower" Arya groaned as Margaery delightedly unwrapped one frilly petticoat after another. Perhaps a hot, peaceful shower might improve her mood.

"Mind if I use the mirror while you're in there?" Margaery asked. "It's going to take me ages to pin my hair up so I can get it all under my wig."

Arya bloody well did mind, but she reluctantly agreed. They would both have the same problem; long hair, short wigs.

Bloody Margaery didn't even wait until she was in the shower. Arya was still getting undressed when Margaery wandered in without even knocking. Arya thought about trying to remove her panties under the privacy of a towel, but decided that was too prudish. Danni would laugh if she caught Arya doing that, so she had to hope Margaery wasn't looking as she kicked off her thong, still soaking with her juices and Gendry's cum. It was the only pair of panties Gendry hadn't actually ripped off her. At this rate, she'd have none left.

"Oh, you've got a Hollywood! That's very daring of you!"

Damn. Bloody Margaery missed nothing.

"Ummm, Gendry likes it." Arya mumbled and jumped into the shower as quickly as she could.

"Danni, have you ever tried a Hollywood?" Margaery yelled out through the open bathroom door.

Arya wanted the ground to open up and swallow her.

Through the steamy shower cabinet, she could see Danni's petite, blonde figure enter the bathroom.

"'ollywood?" Danni queried.

"Yeah, no pubic hair. Totally bare naked."

Just when Arya thought it couldn't get any worse, Danni replied,

"No, I 'aven't but I think on Arya it looks beautiful and I 'ear zee men go crazy."

Shit! Margaery would know that Danni had seen her 'Hollywood' before!

"I could do with a crazy man tonight! I think I'll give it a go. Have you got a spare razor Arya?" Margaery shouted.

Arya thought about pretending not to hear, but bloody Margaery would probably open the shower cabinet door to repeat her question.

Arya closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"In the cabinet. Use one of the pink ones or Gendry will kill you!"

What was bloody virgin Margaery worried about anyway? Was any man going to see it? Arya shuddered. Who knew what the self proclaimed 'blow job Queen' got up to?

Arya heard the cabinet open and, through the steam, she saw Margaery bend down and remove her panties. Arya turned away. Dear God! Was she going to do it right here – right now? That meant Arya was either stuck in the shower until Margaery was finished or she had to go out and see it! Well, she'd end up as wrinkled as a prune as there was no way she was going out there while Margaery was doing that!

Arya took a long time washing and conditioning her hair and scrubbing away any residue of her energetic sex sessions. Gendry wouldn't be happy, but it felt good to be clean and fresh again.

Arya got a fright when she turned around. Margaery was standing right outside the shower cabinet door.

"Are you not finished in there yet? I need a shower so I can clean up!"

Arya couldn't get out of there quick enough, trying to avoid looking at Margaery's newly shaved bits.

Arya gratefully fled the bathroom as soon as she had towelled herself dry and almost bumped into Danni. In her desperation to get away from Margaery, she had forgotten about Danni and now she'd been caught wearing nothing except a towel wrapped around her head like a turban.

Arya wasn't sure of Danni was fully dressed or not. She was wearing something very tight and very revealing that seemed to be made of animal hides stitched together and a silver and gold metal collar around her neck. Danni looked amazing; flashing plenty of bare stomach, side boob and thigh. The hem of the dress was cut at an angle, rising so high at one side that Arya could see matching, suede panties. Very high, sandals with thin, spaghetti straps that wound their way up her ankles finished off her outfit. No doubt Jon would be impressed, Arya certainly was, but there was only one problem…

"You looking _amazing_ Danni, but…err…what are you supposed to be?"

"I am zee Dothraki Khaleesi!"

"Oh, of course!" Arya lied. She had no idea what Danni was talking about, but she didn't want to show her ignorance by asking for an explanation. Maybe it was a French thing.

"Do you think my boobs look beegger already Arya?" Danni asked, stroking her breasts lovingly.

Arya couldn't tell if Danni's, already huge, breasts were any bigger yet, but in 8 months time Arya imagined Jon would be in danger of suffocation. The easiest answer was just to "Yeah, I think they are."

"Jon will be 'appy!" Danni giggled, giving them a squeeze.

Arya was about to disappear to find a robe, when Danni gushed "And Arya, you never told me you 'av been to zee gym! I can see muscles!"

Danni stroked Arya's bare stomach before gently pulling her into an embrace as soft as silk. Arya closed her eyes. Danni's perfume and the feel of her gentle arms and soft breasts reminded Arya how much she had enjoyed Danni's touch.

Bloody Margaery chose that moment to come out of the bathroom.

"Oh sorry! Am I interrupting something?" she purred with delight.

Arya turned bright red with embarrassment. She felt as if she had been caught with her hand tin the sweetie jar. Danni was totally un-phased, as if she hugged naked women every day of the week.

"I am just telling Arya 'ow beautiful she is, but no more Arya – or you end up looking like zee man!"

"She is beautiful isn't she?" Margaery said to Danni "I always thought Sansa got the beauty and you got the brains, but now I see you naked, I'll admit I was wrong." Arya was lost for words, standing naked in front of Danni and a naked Margaery having them discuss her body was beyond embarrassing.

"I like your 'ollywood too Margaery!" Danni smiled "I am sure there is a lucky man for you tonight!"

"Oh thank you Danni. I hope so!" Margaery laughed. "Actually, I'm not sure if I made a good job of it – would you mind checking for me?"

"Of course – lie down on zee bed."

Arya nearly choked with shock. Danni really had no inhibitions whatsoever. When Margaery lay back on Arya and Gendry's bed and dropped her knees open, Arya _had_ to leave.

Danni tutted "You missed bits. Arya, will you bring zee shaveeeng foam and zee razor?"

Arya was glad to have an excuse to get away and was reluctant to come back. At least she had the opportunity to wrap a towel around herself. Margaery seemed to be concerned about the environment as she used the same towel as Arya. The second bath sheet was still dry and folded on the shelf. Arya gratefully knotted it across her breasts. She felt instantly more comfortable.

Margaery was also tidier than Arya, as she had picked the wet towel and Arya's dirty underwear from the floor. Arya wouldn't have touched someone else's dirty panties. It was bad enough having to pick Gendry's underpants up, never mind a stranger's. She wondered if it was just her. Was she abnormally prudish? Was the way Danni and Margaery behaved really normal?

Arya tried to hand the can of foam and the razor to Danni, but Danni shrieked

"A cannot do eet! My dress! It may be ruined! You must do eet Arya."

"NO!"

"Why not?" Danni and Margaery chorused.

Arya couldn't think of a reason she could say out loud. She could hardly say 'yuk!' could she? Margaery might never talk to her again. While she wouldn't mind that, it would make things incredibly awkward for everyone else.

So she huffed and handed Margaery the can of shaving foam and said 'you can at least do the foam' in a bad tempered voice.

Margaery smeared herself with foam again, while Arya tried to look everywhere but at the top of Margaery's legs.

"Ready when you are!"

Arya gritted her teeth, bent down between Margaery's thighs and got to work. The worst thing was, Margaery had already done all the easy parts and Arya was left with the difficult, hard to reach and soft places. Perhaps that wasn't the worst thing after all. The _very_ worst thing was that Margaery seemed to be enjoying it. She had propped her shoulders up on some pillows so she could watch. Danni handed Margaery her glass of champagne and she sipped it, in-between telling Arya how soft and gentle her hands were and giggling about how much she was unexpectedly enjoying it.

Danni didn't help by telling Margaery – "this will get you ready for a wild man tonight – no?" Margaery's giggled response was to ask if Jon was 'wild'.

Arya pleaded with the two of them to change the subject, but Danni seemed to want to talk about how happy Jon made her and confirmed what Arya had already heard - that the two of them had great 'celebration' sex earlier that afternoon. Arya started humming to herself to try and block out their conversation.

When she was finished, Arya immediately looked for something to wipe the residue of the shaving foam away. She was wearing the only dry towel. What the hell. She un-knotted it, leaving herself naked again and handed it to Margaery, who carefully dried every crease and fold and then proceeded to ask Danni what she thought.

Danni seemed eager to examine Arya's handwork.

"Parfait! Arya – perhaps you will do me sometime - no?"

Arya groaned. "I'm sure Jon would do a better job than I would." God she needed more alcohol.

She gulped another glass of the pink champagne and moaned "I'd better get this stupid costume on."

"If you really don't like it, we could swap?" Margaery offered. Arya thought she saw a sly gleam in Margaery's eye.

Arya looked to Danni, who raised her eyebrows and looked away. She wasn't going to get involved.

"Uh…I don't know. Loras went to all that trouble…"

Margaery rolled her eyes and put her hand on her hip. "Since when did you let Loras tell you what to do Arya Stark?" she demanded.

Arya was about to point out that Margaery had been letting her big brother dictate what costume she had to wear for years, but bloody Margaery was already trying on the red wig and crown. She pouted and posed for the girls.

"I suppose you can _pretend_ to be Queen of the Storm Lands if you really want." Arya said bitchily.

"Thank you Arya" Margaery replied graciously, the irony completely lost on her.

Arya supposed Gendry would prefer the suspenders and hot pants of the Cabaret costume anyway. Arya was taller than Margaery. She suspected the hot pants of the Cabaret costume would be particularly short on her longer legs and even 'hotter' than intended. Looking at the skimpy satin shorts, she wondered if they would even cover everything. Even if they didn't and the cheeks of her arse ended up hanging out, it was still better than bloody love hearts.

It took Arya approximately 5 minutes to get into the halter neck top (she was delighted to see it flashed a good few inches of toned, bare midriff), the hot pants (which were as short as she had suspected, but as Gendry claimed to love the crease that was now prominently on display, she was secretly quite pleased) and most of the 5 minutes was spent putting on the suspenders. Margaery's ankle boots were too small and Arya found an ideal pair of sparkly, black, dancing shoes in that wonderful Baratheon wardrobe.

Danni started helping her dry and pin her hair in little flat circles, tight against her head, in preparation for the black wig.

Margaery had taken the Queen of Hearts dress into the bathroom for some reason and eventually came out, needing help to tighten the laces on the back of the bodice. Danni helped her and Arya was surprised to see Margaery was wearing a black bra. How very uncoordinated! The dress did look good on her though, nipping in her waist and pushing up her breasts. The hint of the black lacy bra under the white bodice actually looked quite sexy. Margaery seemed to have the same gift Sansa had – to effortless accessorize any outfit.

Both costumes came with make up kits too; the Cabaret one with huge false eyelashes, green eye shadow and a little stick on beauty spot. The Queen of hearts had white face paint, red lipstick and some subtle eye make up.

Margaery claimed to be unable to do 'fancy' make up. So Arya had to do the dramatic Queen of Hearts make up for her, while Danni pinned up Margaery's hair and kept the other girl's glasses topped up with champagne. To her amazement, Arya was starting to enjoy herself. She was making a great job of Margaery's make up and by the time she was finished Margaery was unrecognisable. Arya wickedly thought that was a good thing!

With very high heels, the red wig and the crown, even Arya had to admit she looked great.

Arya's hair was still not all pinned up and Danni was becoming impatient to leave. Both Danni and Margaery worked on her hair and then the two of them preened in front of the mirror, making last minute adjustments, borrowing Arya's perfume and making sure they looked, and smelled as good as they could.

Arya was nowhere near finished her own make up when Margaery asked if Arya minded if she went down to the ball.

Having wanted rid of her at the beginning, Arya was now rather put out that Margaery wanted to leave without her and even more disappointed when Danni admitted she wanted to go too.

So they both left, teetering away happily on their high heels, leaving Arya alone to finish her make up.

She googled a picture of Liza Minelli on her phone and copied it exactly, even positioning the beauty spot perfectly under her left eye. She carefully put on the shiny, black, bobbed wig. When she set the black bowler hat at a rakish angle on the top, her transformation was complete. She really did look like Liza Minelli (only a lot taller). She _was _really good at doing dramatic make up, she thought happily as she batted her huge, false eyelashes at herself in the mirror.

She checked the rest of her costume out in the mirror and liked what she saw. Actually, she _really_ liked what she saw. This was much better than that stupid love hearts dress. He legs looked slim and almost endless in the heels, stockings and very short shorts. Her bottom looked pert, her stomach flat and toned and the halter neck top covered the bruise that was already forming where Gendry had bitten her in the throes of passion. The deep 'V' of the top emphasised her breasts and, as the top was too low at the back and sides to allow her to wear a bra, her nipples were already noticeable under the satin top. A chill breeze or being close to Gendry would make them unmissable. The feeling of satin against her bare breasts felt quite naughty and erotic. She wondered if he'd be able to resist her. This would be a good test of his will power as she knew he _loved_ her in stockings. Actually, she wondered if _she_ would be able to resist _him_ if he was dressed as Prince Charming. She imagined he would look good in tights. Hell, he would look _great_ in anything. Maybe rough, raw, wolf sex might not be so bad after all.

She spritzed herself with a little perfume, not enough to mask her natural scent, as Gendry didn't like that, but enough to make her smell delicious - she hoped. Then she was ready to go to the Ball. Watch out Gendry Baratheon! Here I come…

-o-

Arya felt a hundred pairs of eyes on her as she descended the grand Storm's End staircase. Butterflies flitted around her stomach. She wished he was by her side, suddenly worried that her costume was too revealing.

She stopped half way down the staircase to scan the crowd, but there was no sign of him, or of anyone else she recognised. They were probably all in the grand ballroom by now.

As she neared the bottom stair, some guy she didn't recognise shouted "Looking good this year Margaery!" She smiled at him and shook her head. Was this going to happen all night? Would she have to try and explain to everyone she wasn't Margaery Tyrell?

A string quartet were playing near the entrance and waiters in powdered wigs and 17th Century costume, were carrying silver trays, laden with flutes of vintage champagne. She took one from the nearest waiter and sipped it as she made her way towards the Ballroom, carried along by the throng of guests.

Everyone, without exception, had made a terrific effort and the costumes were weird and wonderful. A middle aged man dressed as a cowboy, riding an inflatable horse, made her laugh as he galloped by, shouting "Giddy up!" A very fit looking superman caught her eye and winked at her. She felt herself blush as she turned quickly away, bumping into a burly Pantomime Dame, who growled 'watch it!' at her, in a very gruff, Australian accent. This was going to be some night.

As soon as she entered the Ballroom, she spotted Gendry in the middle of the floor. There would be dancing later, but for now, the dance floor was packed with people mingling, chatting and no doubt net-working. He was easy to spot as he was the tallest person in the room and he was also painted green. Some Prince Charming! She guessed he was The Hulk and his bulging muscles certainly looked the part. As he moved, she caught a glimpse of his tattoo, still visible at the top of his arm under the green paint. She giggled to herself - she didn't remember The Hulk having any tattoos.

He was on the move, but where was he going? He was easy to keep track of as he 'hulked' over all the other party goers, but he was weaving through the throng, brushing aside attempts to engage him in conversation with a smile and what looked like a promise to catch up later. Gendry seemed focused at something, or someone far ahead.

She presumed the people greeting Gendry were Baratheon Enterprises acquaintances. No-one knew who Arya was. A few people she past greeted her with a cheer of 'Margaery!" but when she shrugged her apology they let her pass without further interference. There must have been a thousand people in the great Ballroom and Arya felt as if she had squeezed passed every one of them, by the time she made it across to the other side of the room.

She had to explain to yet another person she wasn't Margaery and, when she looked around, she had lost sight of him. Damn. As she stood on the fringes of the crowd, searching for him, she didn't recognise a single person she knew. Out of all these hundreds of people, she only knew perhaps half a dozen and they were no-where to be seen. She suddenly felt very alone. If she didn't find Gendry, this was going to be a miserable, lonely night.

She waived away another liveried champagne waiter.

A heavy, floor to ceiling red and gold curtain was partially drawn back in a corner of the room. She couldn't see any other possible place he could have gone. She peered behind the curtain and saw a spiral staircase, the stone steps worn down in the centre by generations of feet. This had to be one of the oldest parts of the castle. Arya suspected it was probably originally a servant's access, to bring food up from the kitchens and allow the maids access to the higher levels without having to use the grand staircase. Now they used the numerous lifts.

If he hadn't gone this way, she had no idea where he had disappeared to and she would just have to resign herself to going back to the Ball alone.

She stood at the staircase, one hand on the balcony. Up or down? The first floor of Storm's End was occupied with living accommodation. She presumed it would be closed off tonight. If he wanted to go to his own room, the grand staircase or the lifts would have been more direct, so she decided it was unlikely he'd gone up.

She had no idea where going down would take her, but she decided to try it. A full revolution on the spiral stair took her out onto a level that didn't look particularity promising. There were beer kegs, spare chairs and half a dozen of Margaery's floral displays in various states of disarray. Some of the vases were broken and some had the golden stag missing from the centre.

She started down to the next level but had only taken a few steps when something made her stop. Call it a sixth sense, but _something _made her stop and listen. At first all she could hear was the distant chatter of a thousand people in the Ballroom above, but she stood still, listened carefully and heard a muffled, lustful groan. She tip toed back up the steps she'd taken down and stopped again beside the beer kegs and flowers. Sure enough, she heard it again.

She walked forward quietly, anxious that her presence not be discovered. The walls here were carved out of stone and the fluorescent strip lights set into the ceiling gave off a harsh, narrow light, that didn't reach into the dark passing places that seemed to be tunnelled out of the rock. There was no mistaking the noise; someone was having sex a few feet away. She should have turned away. It wasn't her business what guests got up to in the dark, but _something_ made her continue.

Another step and she could see into an alcove, hewn into the rock. She saw bunched buttocks straining against tight, cut off jeans, green muscles bulging, half hidden in shadow as Gendry pumped relentlessly into a woman, concealed in the darkness. The woman's upper body was hidden in the shadow, but Arya recognised the dress; layers of white petticoats, pushed up and out of the way, revealing slim pale thighs and buttocks that seeming to shine in the darkness. If she needed any more proof, she could see the embroidered red hearts on the edge of the dress. Gendry was fucking Margaery Tyrell like she was a whore in an alleyway.

Arya's first instinct was to scream and run at him and pull him off. Her second was to think he must have made a mistake – he thought it was her in that Queen of Hearts costume, but he didn't make mistakes. He'd told her so many times that her scent was unique. The fucker knew what he was doing. She had told him no more sex until after the Full Moon and he'd found what he wanted elsewhere. Well fuck him. If sex meant that much to him, bloody Margaery Tyrell was welcome to him.

Arya turned and walked back the way she had come. The walking and the self control didn't last long. In moments she was running, hot tears burning her cheeks. How could she have been so stupid? The clues were there all along. She'd just been too stupidly blind to open her eyes and see what was going on in front of her; his odd behaviour when a blow job had been offered – Margaery was Queen of the blow jobs, his showing off at the gym, everyone at Storm's End referring to Margaery as 'Lady Baratheon' and Gendry's half hearted attempt to blame Renly. They must have all been laughing at her behind her back.

She couldn't face the main ballroom again, so she kept running up the stairs, ignoring the gold rope and the 'Keep Out' sign that had been strung across the entrance to the first floor. As she scissored her legs over the gold rope she heard a voice on the landing below calling out His name. It was Renly. Renly was looking for him too. _Fuck them all!_ She ran for her room – for His room.

Where was she going to go? She didn't know; she just had to get far away from here.

Thank God she hadn't unpacked her suitcase. As she flung the few personal possessions she had unpacked back into it, she considered her options as she.

Go and find Jon and Danni and tell them everything. _No_. That would mean staying here and facing Renly and Margaery and HIM and listening to their bullshit excuses.

Phone her father and ask him to come and pick her up. _No_. She couldn't bear to have him say 'I told you so' and admit that he'd been right all along.

Phone Robb. _No_. That would mean going back to Winterfell and she wasn't ready to go back there with her tail between her legs yet.

Phone Brienne. _No._ She was needed with Edric and anyway, she was a Baratheon employee and that would put her in an awkward position.

Jaqen? _No._ That last experience with him was still too raw and unresolved.

She was running out of options. She needed someone close by, someone who could get her away from here and someone she could stay with for a while until she got her head sorted.

She had a sudden flash of inspiration. What would piss Gendry off more than anything else? Griff! Yeah, Griff would come for her and Gendry would be livid. Well, it would serve him bloody well right. Fucking cheating bastard.

Only problem was, she didn't have Griff's number. But Gendry did.

The stupid bastard had left his phone in their bedroom. She zipped her suitcase shut and ran to the bedroom. Sure enough, it was lying on the bedside table. She scrolled through the numbers. There he was. She didn't want Gendry knowing. She needed time to get away, far enough away so Gendry couldn't drag her back. She wouldn't put it past The Pack to forcibly bring her back to Storm's End _if_ they could find her. So she dialled Griff's number from her own phone.

_Pick up Griff, please pick up!_ She pleaded. He was a Rock Star. Did they answer unknown numbers?

Thank God they did, as she heard a drawled "Yeah?" on the other end of the line.

"Griff, oh you're wonderful! It's Arya. Can you come and pick me up – right now?"

"Hey Arya!" she could imagine him smirking at his phone. The one that got away just came running back.

"This is really important Griff. Can you pick me up in the storm lands right now?"

"Fuck's sake Arya! You pick your moments! I'm due on stage in an hour and a half. I'll come get you after the gig."

"No! Please Griff, I need you now."

He groaned - but she could tell he was pleased.

"Ok. I like the sound of that. Whereabouts in the storm lands? I'm in King's Landing so it's going to be tight. You need to be ready and waiting for me."

"Storm's End - the castle. And I will be."

"Shit. I'm going to have to shift to get there and back, but yeah, I can make it…and Arya…"

"Yes?"

"I knew you'd be back."

"Just get here soon."

"Tonight's the night!"

"Griff!"

"Ok, ok, I'm running to my car already."

Arya allowed herself a little smile of satisfaction as she hung up. Let's see how you like that Gendry Baratheon - you cheating bastard!


	30. Chapter 30 - Enter the Dragon

**Chapter 30**

**Enter the Dragon**

**Well, that was a quite overwhelming response to the last chapter. I've never been scared to read my reviews before! We've only got 3 or 4 more chapters to go, so hang on in there…**

Arya dragged her suitcase to the door. She had never noticed how heavy it was before, but when she arrived she'd had staff to carry it. That was another thing that would be changing.

She turned to take a last look around. The empty bottle of champagne was still upturned in the ice bucket, the clothes rail was empty too, remnants of costume packaging littered the floor and make up was strewn everywhere. She'd even helped that bitch do her make up!

Arya bristled with anger. This time, she was leaving his stinking old bike jacket, stupid T shirts and Him far behind. She had no intention of ever coming back to Storm's End.

She caught sight of herself in the mirror by the door. Shit! Liza Minnelli was looking back at her. She had forgotten she was still wearing that stupid costume. Not only that, her heavy black eye make up had run. She didn't have time to change. Even getting her hair out of the dozens of pins would take 20 minutes and it was going to be a long walk to the front gate. She couldn't risk drawing attention to her escape by calling for a car. She had time to hurriedly wipe away the black streaks of mascara, but she'd just have to wear the stupid costume until she had time to change.

She pulled up the handle on her suitcase and headed for the lift. The lift she wanted wouldn't take her to the grand, main entrance area but rather to the side of the castle, to another access door used by staff, mostly to nip out for a sly fag. With a bit of luck, she could leave un-noticed, at least until she got to the gate, by which time she hoped Griff would be waiting and it would be too late for them to stop her.

Adrenaline was pumping through her veins as lift took her down. Half an hour to get to the front gate. Half an hour to freedom. She wheeled her suitcase as quickly as she could along the empty corridor. Behind her, in the distance, she could hear the string quartet, the chink of glasses and the exited hum of people enjoying themselves. Half an hour before, she had been one of those people, still blissfully unaware of what was going on right under her nose. _Bloody Baratheon Bastard_.

As she neared the exit, she was disappointed to see someone standing outside. Damn. She had hoped the staff would all be too busy tonight to be hanging around smoking. As she got closer she saw it wasn't an employee or one of the contract staff drafted in for the night. It was a guest in fancy dress; a little old lady leaning on a stick, dragging on a cigarette like a condemned man given his last. She was dressed in robes of silk and ermine with a jagged crown on her head. From a distance it looked like thorns. God, not another Queen Arya thought. There were too many damn Queens in Storm's End tonight for Arya's liking.

Arya pushed the glass door open and smiled politely at the hunched old smoker and her chauffer holding a parasol over his employer's head with one hand, her packet of fags and a gold lighter in the other. Behind him was champagne coloured Rolls Royce. She was obviously a very rich old smoker.

"Are you alright dear?" the little old lady asked kindly although her gravely voice betrayed a 40 a day, lifetime habit.

Arya was rather taken aback. She had fixed her make up and assumed no-one would be able to tell she had been crying. What would Liza Minnelli do? She would say 'smile though your heart is breaking' or was it Judy Garland who sung that song? Anyway, Arya smiled brightly and replied "Great, thanks!"

The old lady returned her smile. Arya thought the smile didn't reach the old Queen's rheumy eyes though and she seemed rather disappointed by Arya's answer. The chauffeur rolled his eyes as his employer flicked her fag away, ignoring the cigarette bin on the wall beside her and stubbed the butt out on the ground with a tiny, pointed shoe.

Arya struggled on, pulling her suitcase, anxious to be away from the pungent smell of cigarettes and Storm's End.

She wasn't quite out of earshot when she heard the old lady snap at her chauffer

"Get that engine running. She shouldn't be long now and keep that parasol over me you idiot! How many times do I have to tell you I don't want any more wrinkles!"

Arya smiled to herself. Life could be worse; at least she wasn't a chauffeur, having to put up with that old crone.

The courtyard she had to walk across was enormous and usually more-or–less empty, but tonight it was crammed with luxury vehicles, parked or in the process of being parked by a team of red jacketed parking attendants. Busy suited her purposes tonight; she'd be harder to spot in this melee.

Arya could only wonder what on earth the combined value of all these cars would be. She couldn't help but be impressed. This was a car enthusiast's paradise and, as she walked past a particularly gorgeous, vintage Aston Martin, she couldn't help wondering if Gendry would take a look around later. Then she remembered she hated the cheating bastard and she mustn't think like that anymore.

Fired up with a new determination, she marched through the cars with her head held high. The few people who were around, seemed much too busy to pay her any attention, although she did catch two parking attendants nudging each other and staring at her legs as she walked past. At least someone got to appreciate her stockings she thought.

As she was walking through the thick castle walls, under the ancient portcullis the bellow of what sounded like Fog Horn made her jump out of the way. It was the champagne coloured Rolls Royce racing past, obviously in a huge hurry to get somewhere.

Once out of the castle walls, the road to the main gate was also lined with parked cars and coaches, presumably chartered for the Baratheon Enterprises staff lucky enough to be invited. She liked the coaches; they were easier to hide behind.

She was beginning to think she would get to the security barrier unseen. After that, all she had to do was sweet talk her way past the guards, either that or run. But it was too good to be true…

"Arya!"

She was actually surprised to hear someone call her by her own name. She knew it wasn't Gendry, so she turned around to see a Gladiator running down the middle of the road towards her, holding his sword flat, trying to stop it slapping against his bare thigh as he ran.

She groaned, turned and kept walking. Bloody Loras. Ok, so he looked like Brad Pitt in that movie Troy and in other circumstances she could have quite appreciated that, but this wasn't one of them. She should have known. Nothing and apparently no-one ever escaped him

When he caught up with her, the first thing he did was wrestle the handle of her suitcase away from her. She expected him to march her back up to the castle, but instead he walked beside her, carrying her heavy case effortlessly.

"Where are you going Arya?"

"I'm going to meet my friend at the front gate." She said through gritted teeth, avoiding looking directly at him.

"Hmm. Why are you wearing Margaery's costume and who's your _friend_?"

"The reason I'm not wearing the costume you picked for me is because I'm not a 'hearts and flowers' kind of girl Loras. You should know that by now and he's called Griff."

"Does 'Griff' drive a Ferrari?"

She groaned. Bloody Loras. Bloody Margaery. Bloody cars. "I dunno. It's red."

"Ferrari's usually are." He was laughing at her and she wasn't in the mood for his teasing. "And it's a Testerossa by the sounds of it."

Arya still couldn't hear anything, but she was relieved to know her means of escape was close.

"So who is this 'Griff'?"

"Jon's friend." Arya snapped. Hoping to leave it at that, but Loras, as usual, wanted more information…

"Griff…_who_?"

"I dunno. Just Griff. Ask Jon."

"Hmm. You're not being very forthcoming Arya. _Just Griff_ who drives a Ferrari." Loras mused. There was a long pause, before he asked "Where are you going with Griff and your suitcase?"

She didn't answer. She kept walking; thinking …_please Griff, get here soon._

"If you won't tell me, I can't let you go."

She stopped and turned on him.

"I'm sick of you lot telling me what I can and can't do. I'll do what I bloody well want and I want to leave!"

He was obviously taken aback by her outburst. He put her case down, took off his helmet and ran his hand over his cropped hair. She hadn't noticed before, because most of his face had been hidden by the Russell Crowe replica helmet, but he looked shattered - even worse than he had at the hospital in the morning. She suddenly felt guilty for shouting at him. It was hardly Loras' fault that Gendry was a lying, cheating, sonofabitch, bastard and his sister was a whore.

"I'm sorry Loras. I need to get out of here. I need to get away from Him and from all this" she jabbed her finger towards Storm's End. She reached for her suitcase, but he picked it up again before she could grab the handle. To her relief he started walking towards the gate again. She followed.

"I know it's the Full Moon tomorrow and things are a little …_fraught…" _he sighed.

She wanted to yell at him "A LITTLE FRAUGHT! _Gendry's fucking your sister under my nose and you say things are a little fraught!_" but he genuinely seemed to have no idea, so she kept her mouth shut and kept walking. They were at the security barrier now. The guards, seeing their boss, were standing to attention.

"…but he's trying and we've all been hit hard by what happened to Edric."

She suspected Loras had been hit hardest of all. Edric was Gendry's brother, but it was Loras who felt responsible for Edric; for all of them_._

"Can you not try and a little more…understanding?" Loras asked gently.

"I'm not in the mood to be understanding." Arya hissed through gritted teeth, ducking under the security barrier and holding out her hand for her suitcase. She could hear the unmistakeable, high pitched whine of Griff's Ferrari now.

Loras reluctantly handed her the bag.

"Will you promise me you won't tell Him until after the Full Moon?" she pleaded, suddenly wishing she had been a bit nicer to him as they walked down.

Loras rubbed his hand over his face. "I can't promise you that Arya. That's not the way The Pack works."

"Please?"

He groaned. Damn that girl. Gendry wasn't the only one she could twist around her little finger.

"I'll try."

Griff screeched to a stop behind them. Arya felt loose gravel, kicked up by the Ferrari spray the back of her legs. With the barrier still between them, she threw her arms around Loras' neck and hugged him.

"I'll miss you most of all" she murmured against his cheek. He hugged her back and whispered "I'll miss you too Miss Stark."

As she let him go, she realised Griff was standing behind her, picking up her bag with a scowl on his face. The engine of his Ferrari was still running.

"Nice wheels." Loras drawled. "Is that an 85?"

"84" Griff replied curtly, stalking around to the rear of the car and shoving Arya's case in the boot. "Come on Arya. We need to shift."

Arya took a last look at Loras, standing unhappily on the Storm's End side of the barrier. She gave him a weak smile before climbing into the passenger seat. This was his last chance, but still he made no attempt to stop her.

"Be careful!" she heard Loras yell as she shut the door. As Griff revved the engine and spun the car around, she wondered if he was talking to her or Griff.

She was determined not to look back as Griff screamed the car away from the gate.

"Who the fuck was he and why are you both dressed like movie stars?" Griff demanded.

"Just take me away from here and I'll explain later."

-o-

Behind them Loras turned to the nearest guard,

"Run that car's plate through the computer and get me all the intel you can on that him. There can't be too many blue haired boys his age driving vintage Ferraris."

"Will do Sir!" the guard replied immediately, turning on his heel to follow the order.

Emmon Cuy of the Rainbow Guard had been stationed at the entrance to oversee access tonight. He strolled out of the guard's station.

"How's it going up at the Castle?"

"Same as usual " Loras grunted in reply, although it clearly wasn't. The future Lady Baratheon wasn't supposed to leave before it was even dark.

"Lady Redwine left rather early." Cuy commented. "I was concerned she had taken unwell."

Loras snorted. "She'll see us all out." He turned to leave, then thought better of it and turned back to Cuy. "When did she leave?"

"Only minutes before I caught sight of Miss Stark walking towards us. Seemed in a hell of a hurry too."

It wasn't like his Grandmother to leave a party early, Loras thought. Particularly one with free Sherry. Yet another thing for him to worry about. As if anticipating his concerns, Cuy added "I wouldn't worry. Margaery was with her."

"Margaery?"

"I had to stop them and check. I hope you don't mind, but your Grandmother certainly did and sure as hell let me know it." Emmon Cuy chuckled ruefully. "I could tell from the infra red there was another passenger in the car. Turns out Margaery was crouched on the floor. Claimed she was looking for something. Rather odd, but that's women for you isn't it? Done up like a Queen she was, in fact the two of them were. Peas in a pod those two aren't they?"

"I suppose…" Loras muttered distractedly. Something was going on that he didn't know about and he _hated_ that; first Arya, now Margaery and his Granny leaving early.

"Send me that intel on our blue haired friend as soon as you've got it. Try Margaery and Lady Redwine on their mobiles. If either of them answers, which I doubt, put them straight through to me. If you can't get hold of them, get me Willas or Garlan. I want to speak to someone at Highgarden who can tell me what they hell is going on down there."

"Yes Sir!"

Loras began the long walk back to the castle. He could have called for a car, but it was a beautiful night, he needed time to think and he was in no hurry to get back to the stiflingly, oppressive stink of those flowers Margaery had ordered. It was as if they dulled all his senses, not only his sense of smell.

She was up to something, no doubt about that. His gut feeling was that Margaery had everything to do with Arya leaving. However, he had to admit, he could certainly see the attraction in young Griff. Something about Griff reminded him of Jon. If it was a choice between Griff or bloody Gendry, he knew which one he'd choose, which was strange seeing as Gendry looked so like Renly. However they couldn't have been less alike in personality. Obviously looks weren't everything.

It looked as if Arya might have made the same choice he would have. _Fuck._ There was going to be hell to pay for that. Gendry would be distraught when he found out. To make matters worse Arya had manage to get _him_ to agree to withhold the identity of her 'friend' from Gendry until after the Full Moon. Loras could understand why. If Gendry found out before, there was a good chance that cute, young, blue haired boy might pay dearly for thinking with his cock. Loras cursed and groaned again, quite loudly this time. If anyone could hear him, they'd think he was mad.

How was it Jon had described being Head of Baratheon Security? "Like herding cats" he'd said. The cats were certainly scattering in all directions tonight and it couldn't have come at a worse time; Renly was more preoccupied and distant than Loras had ever known him to be, tomorrow was Gendry's first Full Moon, they had to try and save Edric's life, there was the job to be done on that motherfucker Tywin Lannister. On top of all that there was Jon. Loras gave out his loudest, most heartfelt groan yet. Jon needed to be bitten tomorrow night and he knew there was going to be a fight over who had that pleasure. Loras himself intended to be first in line.

-o-

"I didn't drive all this way to watch you hug your sugar daddy. Why didn't you just get him to drive you were you want to go or is he so _old_ he's had his licence revoked?" Griff fumed, purple eyes as dark and foreboding as thunder clouds as he screamed the Ferrari's engine up through the gears.

_Here we go again_ thought Arya,

"Don't worry. He's just a friend…"

"_Just a friend_? Don't think I've not heard that line before!"

"…and he's gay. Why do you think he was wearing a skirt and had shaved legs?"

"Oh" Griff scowled, but at least that shut him up. Arya shifted in the Ferrari's cream leather bucket seat to look at him. He looked like he always did; leather trousers, sleeveless dragon T shirt, leather straps knotted around his wrists, tousled blue hair, achingly cool. At least this time she had on more eye make up than him.

"I'm really, really grateful you came to get me. Honestly."

"How grateful?" Griff gave her a sidelong glance, loaded with sexual intent. Before she realised what he was doing, he had stroked the stocking suspender on her right thigh with one long, slim finger. She slapped his hand away and he laughed.

"I've been thinking about what song fitted the circumstances on my way here."

Arya looked at him expectantly. "And…?"

"Press play."

Arya looked at the dashboard. 'Retro' didn't even cover it. She had never seen anything like this before outside of a museum; clunky controls that had been designed a decade before she was born, primary coloured knobs and decals.

Griff gave her a sarcastic hint, "the one with the arrow pointing towards me"

She pressed the black lever with the little red triangle pointing right. It took a hard push, but the lever finally clunked down into place.

She heard the hiss of static and pulled a face at Griff. He chuckled.

"That's the sound of nostalgia. Start of the tape. Just wait…"

Tape?

A lonesome piano and a melancholy harmonica wailed from speakers on either side of the dashboard. Griff started singing at the same time as the voice on the tape.

"_The screen door slams  
Mary's dress sways_"

Only Griff sang "Arya's dress sways". He really did have a great voice.

"_Like a vision she dances across the porch  
As the radio plays  
Roy Orbison singing for the lonely  
Hey that's me and I want you only_"

He looked across at her and grinned

_"Don't turn me home again  
I just can't face myself alone again  
Don't run back inside  
Darling you know just what I'm here for__**"**_

As he sang that last line he looked across at her with a wicked, lecherous gleam in his eye. Arya know _exactly_ what he was here for

"_So you're scared and you're thinking  
That maybe we ain't that young anymore  
Show a little faith, there's magic in the night  
You ain't a beauty, but hey you're alright  
Oh and that's alright with me"_

When he sang "you ain't a beauty, but hey you're alright" Arya slapped his leather clad thigh. That only made his grin wider.

"Is that you singing?"

He glanced at her with an incredulous look on his face.

"I wish!"

"_Well now I'm no hero  
That's understood  
All the redemption I can offer, girl  
Is beneath this dirty hood  
With a chance to make it good somehow  
Hey what else can we do now?  
Except roll down the window  
And let the wind blow  
Back your hair_"

Arya hung her head out of the window and whooped as the hot summer air hit her face.

He took his lead from her and whooped and hollered as he put his foot to the floor, sending the engine screaming as the car leapt forward.

"_Well I got this guitar  
And I learned how to make it talk"_

He mimed playing a guitar, taking his hands off the wheel. "Griff!" she shrieked, before he grabbed the steering wheel again.

"_And my cars out back  
If you're ready to take that long walk  
From your front porch to my front seat  
The doors open but the ride it ain't free"_

He looked across at her with another sexually charged glance. It was clear he chose this song precisely because "_The ride it ain't free_." He was expecting something in return and it didn't take a genius to work out what.

"_And I know you're lonely  
For words that I ain't spoken  
But tonight well be free  
All the promises'll be broken_"

Yeah Gendry! Who'd broken their promise?! She yanked at the ring on the third finger of her left hand. It seemed to be stuck; reluctant to leave her finger, but with some vigorous tugging, she managed to work it loose and immediately threw it from the speeding car into the grass and wild flowers on the verge of the road. _Take that you cheating bastard!_

"Whoohoo!" she shrieked at the open road, energised by a new found sense of freedom.

" …_so Arya climb in  
It's a town full of losers  
And I'm pulling out of here to win."_

A triumphant, wailing saxophone brought the song to a close.

"So if that wasn't you singing who was it?"

"You're kidding me – right?"

"No" she pouted.

"The Boss. Bruce Springsteen!"

"Yeah, I've heard of him, but I've never heard that song."

He snorted in disbelief - as if every 20 year old girl should be familiar with all of The Boss' back catalogue.

"First track, second side – you'll know that one. Ever used a cassette player before?"

"Of course not!" she laughed "Do I look like I grew up in a museum?"

That made him grin and his magic eyes sparkle with amusement.

"Ok. Press fast forward – the button with the 2 arrows pointing to me"

She did.

"When it reaches the end of the tape you've got to take it out, turn it over and play the other side."

Arya looked sceptical, but she pressed the correct button and could hear a whirr of the cassette deck, even over the noise of the engine. It came to an abrupt, clunking stop.

"Press eject"

She managed to do that, as the farthest right hand button had 'eject' printed on it.

A white plastic cassette tape jumped out. Arya turned it over in her hands, laughing.

"What an antique!" The worn black letters read 'Bruce Springsteen – Born to Run 1975'

"1975! My dad was just a boy then!"

"Just play the other side."

She did. Griff turned the dial up to '10'. After more static hiss, a wall of sound burst out from the speakers; drums, guitar saxophone. She recognised that tune; Born to Run.

"In the day we sweat it out on the streets of a runaway American dream…"

Griff turned the dial right down, so she could barely hear Bruce Springsteen sing over the noise of the Ferrari's engine.

He looked across at her again, but the grin and the laughing eyes had gone. His face was deadly serious.

"This gig tonight is the last one before I head to the States. I've got 14 days booked solid on the east coast; gigs, interviews, appearances. Fly out to the west coast for another 7. Then the mid-west University towns. After that I've got some time off. I'm going to drive Route 66. You know, Chicago to LA? I've got a '67 Camaro on hire."

She smiled and nodded encouragingly.

"Once we get to LA we could fly straight back or we could stay on the west coast for a while."

The '_we_' was loaded with implications and complications.

He looked at her with steady, intense, lilac eyes. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

"We?"

"I asked you to come with me before. Remember?"

She did and she'd thought he had been joking. She hadn't even considered it then.

"Looks to me like your bag is already packed and I saw you throw that ring away. Seems to me you could do with a change of scene."

She turned her head away and looked out the window. Storm's End was rapidly disappearing into the distance. Griff's car was tearing up the miles of the King's Road and they'd be in King's Landing within the hour. Was it really as easy as Bruce Springsteen and Griff said it was? Would a fast car, America and Griff be enough to let her forget Him?

Griff turned the volume up to '10' again but he didn't sing this time. He just watched the road while she watched him and they listened to The Boss.

_1-2-3-4!_

The highway's jammed with broken heroes on a last chance power drive  
Everybody's out on the run tonight  
but there's no place left to hide  
Together Wendy we can live with the sadness  
I'll love you with all the madness in my soul  
h-Oh, Someday girl I don't know when  
we're gonna get to that place  
Where we really wanna go  
and we'll walk in the sun  
But till then tramps like us  
baby we were born to run

Oh honey, tramps like us  
baby we were born to run

Come on with me, tramps like us  
baby we were born to run" 

She pressed the eject button as the song faded away.

"I don't know and I don't want to listen to that anymore. Can you just put on the radio and we can listen to something _normal_?"

By 'normal' she meant something she knew; something safe and familiar and not laden with Griff's double meanings.

"The radio doesn't work and this car won't play anything after 1985." he smirked.

She looked at him sceptically. "Why 1985?"

"That's the last time this car was used before I got it. It's been sitting in a garage since then. Cost me a fortune to get her back on the road, but she was worth it. The old lady's only got a tape player. There's a load of tapes in the glove box, but nothing beyond 1985. Have a look."

Arya opened the glove box. Sure enough, there must have been at least 20 plastic cassettes in there, hardly any of them in boxes, piled up haphazardly.

Arya picked the top one up and read… _Madonna. Like a Virgin 1984_

She threw it back in.

"God, I never knew Madonna was so old!"

The one after that was clear plastic, rather than white and someone had carefully written "Mix tape for L" on its white sticky label.

"What's this?"

"It's all different songs. Back in the day, people used to make up 'mix tapes' for each other. You had to record it onto the cassette from another cassette or from a record – you know what vinyl records are?"

She pulled a face. Of course she knew what records were. She wasn't _that_ young or _that _stupid. She'd had to listen to her dad play old Johnny Cash records plenty of times when she was young. She still couldn't hear Johnny Cash without thinking of him.

"…So you couldn't just download it. It took hours and I think mostly you did it for your girlfriend. God, you'd have to really love someone to spend all that time messing around."

"So who's this for?"

"I dunno. 'L' I suppose."

Arya inserted 'Mix tape for L'.

It was half way through another song she didn't recognise. A man was singing about Romeo and Juliet.

"…_you can fall for chains of silver you can fall for chains of gold  
You can fall for pretty strangers and the promises they hold  
You promised me everything, you promised me thick and thin yeah  
Now you just say oh Romeo yeah you know I used to have a scene with him_

_Juliet when we made love you used to cry  
You said I love you like the stars above, I'll love you till I die…"_

Arya pressed fast forward. A different man singing

"_And now the marriage vow is very sacred  
The man has put us together  
Now you ought to make it stick together  
Come on, come on and stick together_

You know we made a vow  
To leave one another never"

Another bloody love song. Fast forward again.

Griff laughed.

"Every track on that cassette's a love song. If that's not what you want to hear, no point in playing that one."

Arya pressed eject again.

She turned the cassette over in her hands, thinking it was like a time capsule; a love letter to 'L' from 1985. It appealed to her romantic and curious sides (admittedly she hadn't much of a romantic side). It was like a mystery to be solved.

"So you don't know who 'L' is?"

"No idea. It's cool tape though – if you're in the right mood."

"So who do you think made it?"

"Someone who loved 'L' I guess."

"The person who owned the car before you – in 1985?"

He mumbled 'yeah', but his body language had suddenly changed. He shifted uncomfortable in the seat and ran his hands around the steering wheel, looking fixedly straight ahead.

He knew who made the tape. No doubt about that.

She put the mix tape back carefully at the side of the glove box and raked through the rest of the tapes. One in a box caught her eye, probably because the cover was of a red and gold dragon, similar to the one on Griff's T shirt.

It was grubby and the plastic case had yellowed with age. There was no name on the cover, but the side of the case read "Fire and Blood". It couldn't be Griff's band as this was way too old.

She opened the case. The name of the band 'Targaryen'. She almost dropped it in shock. Lead singer Rhaegar Targaryen. Jon's father. The year on the cassette was 1981. They must have been one of the biggest bands around back then. She supposed it wasn't surprising one of their cassettes was in the glove box.

He noticed her studying it.

"I named my band after that album."

"So you like it then?"

He laughed. "You could say I was brought up on it."

Arya snapped the case shut and tossed it back in the pile. She certainly didn't want to listen to that.

"Hey!" he yelled, but she was already inserting another cassette. Finally something she recognised – Thriller. The tape started half way through Billie Jean.

"That is so annoying!" Arya moaned jabbing at the controls. "Didn't anyone ever start at the beginning?"

"Well did you rewind any of the ones you just listened to?"

"Ok, but come on…it's annoying as hell. No wonder they died out!"

When the tape finally rewound, getting slower and slower the nearer it got to the beginning, the first song was "Beat it" and Arya was delighted to discover that she knew more of the words that than he did. They hadn't managed to listen to all of the second side by the time the reached King's Landing, but at least it was something they could both sing along to – him rather more professionally than her. Arya recognised these roads easily by now. They were heading back to The Tourney.

"Do you never play anywhere else?" she asked sarcastically.

"Ha bloody ha. This is a special, invitation only gig; fans, competition winners, press. If all goes well in The States we'll never be playing venues like this again in the UK. I want the Stadiums. But tonight is a 'thank you' to the fans before we leave. You can see why I didn't want to be late for this one!"

"And are you late?"

"Yeah" he moaned and then added cheekily "and I hope it's going to be worth it!"

Arya sighed. No pressure to sleep with him tonight then, she thought. If she was being honest with herself she'd known from the beginning the price she'd have to pay for the ride. Wasn't that why she had phoned Griff in the first place? To get revenge on Gendry? However the reality was rather more daunting than she had imagined when she'd made that snap decision back in Storm's End. Griff was…so…unfamiliar. That was probably the best way of describing it. Gendry had always been around. It was as if he was part of her. Griff wasn't like that. He was new and exciting but intimidating and overwhelming all at the same time.

Griff brought the Ferrari to a stop at the back of the Tourney, beside the huge black truck that carried the band's gear. They hadn't got out of the car before a tall, well built, older man in a black T shirt, black jeans, wearing headphones and waving a clip board ran towards them, yelling at the top of his voice at Griff

"Where _the fuck_ have you been?! They're going mad inside and I'm fucking going mad looking for you while you chase all over the fucking countryside after a piece of ass! Your father would never have behaved like this!"

Griff tossed the Ferrari's keys to the grey haired man as Arya bristled - '_Piece of ass!_' – is that all he thought she was?

"Watch how you talk about my girl Connington and relax! It'll be fine. I've got a special encore planned for tonight and they'll love me more than ever by the time I'm finished with them." Griff drawled, draping one lean arm across Arya's shoulders and guiding her up the ramp. She gave the 'ass' man a death stare over her shoulder.

Griff pulled her in close and murmured against her ear. "Don't mind him. He's my manager and acts like he's got a poker up his arse all the time, but Jon's an old pussycat really. He's just old school and a perfectionist with it."

As soon as the back door was opened Arya could here the crowd chanting 'Fire and Blood, Fire and Blood" accompanied by stomping feet and clapping hands. She felt instantly anxious. He should hurry up and get on the stage, but he never increased his pace, even when they turned a corner to see the rest of the band huddled in a circle at the end of the corridor. Duck looked up first

"Seven hells! Talk about leaving it late! Another 5 minutes and I think they'd have lynched us!" he shouted down the corridor at Griff, his big, deep voice booming in the confined space. As they got nearer, he greeted Arya in a much calmer voice "Hi again Arya. We'll catch up later, but right now we need to GET ON THE DAMN STAGE!"

Duck and the rest of the band started jogging towards the stage, leaving Griff and Arya momentarily alone in the corridor.

He pulled her to him, as if he had all the time in the world, wrapping his arms around her waist, crushing her hips against his.

"I think it's customary to get a good luck kiss before going out to face the baying crowd."

"Hmm, is it?"

He tilted his head slowly towards hers; his eyes half closed, his focus entirely on her mouth in a way that made her knees feel rather weak.

It was only a kiss and bloody Gendry had done a lot worse.

She closed her eyes and felt his cool, dry lips brush softly against her mouth, which to her surprise was suddenly open and moist. The tip of his tongue found hers and their tongues began a tentative, slow, rhythmic dance. His hips began to move against her in the same way, the slow, sensual stimulation to her mouth and body proving hard to resist. She began to response to the increasingly urgent pressure of his hips against hers, moving against him, sliding her hands over those leather trousers and deepening their kiss.

"FOR FUCK'S SAKE!" an angry voice bellowed from the other end of the corridor.

Arya broke guilty away. A smug, sensual smile play across Griff's lips, now stained red by her lipstick.

Arya dragged her eyes away from his mouth to see Jon Connington marching up the corridor towards them, looking as if he was spoiling for a fight.

"I think you'd better run!" she giggled to a smirking Griff.

"I think you're right!" he laughed as he let her go and shrugged his shoulders at his irate manager.

The crowd were chanting "_Griff! Griff! Griff!_" as the rest of the band seemed to be on the stage.

He ran towards the noise, stopping at the last minute to yell back at her "Don't forget tonight's the night!" before he disappeared up the stairs and out of sight.

Now Arya and Jon Connington were left alone in the corridor. Arya gulped. She was expecting a bollocking from the Manager for delaying his lead singer, but Connington was also due one from her, for referring to her as a 'piece of ass'. She balled her hands on her hips, ready for him.

But the bollocking never came, instead the older man, stopped beside her and sighed.

"He'll be the death of me that one."

He sounded old and world weary. Arya, felt sorry for him. Somehow he reminded her of Loras – always trying to look after everyone else. She decided to apologize for her part in making his job more difficult.

"I'm sorry. I begged him to come and get me. It's my fault he was late."

"Hmmm. Well I doubt you had to beg him very hard, Miss….?"

"Stark. Arya Stark." She said offering him her hand. His eyebrows shot up as she said her name, but he didn't comment, simply grasping her offered hand in a firm, strong handshake.

"What did you mean about his father not behaving like him?" Arya wondered.

"I used to manage his father too..." The older man's face brightened immediately as if remembering happier times. "…and I lied. His father would've done the same thing, but best not tell him that." Jon Connington winkled at her conspiratorially. "I'm sorry I called you a…what I did. I was angry and frustrated. He's got the talent, but if he wants to go all the way like his father did, he's going to have to work twice as hard. Times have changed and one album and one tour every few years won't cut it anymore." The big man grimaced, as if having to swallow a rather bitter pill.

"Who's his father?" Arya asked innocently.

It was as if a guard went up and immediately Connington became more businesslike and less friendly.

"We don't talk about that." He said firmly.

"Oh." Was all Arya could think of to say in response. How odd. The two of them stood awkwardly for a moment. A terrific roar of approval burst from the crowd. Griff had finally made it to the stage.

"Could I have Griff's car keys to get my suitcase please?" Arya looked down at her cropped top, hot pants, stockings and suspenders. It was hardly surprising Jon Connington had called her a 'piece of ass'. Maybe he thought she dressed like this all the time. She felt the need to explain. "This is a fancy dress costume and I'm desperate to get changed."

"I'm sorry love, but the car is away. Griff wanted it taken back to his place tonight. There's an after show party in London tonight, organised by the record company. Parking won't be easy and I suppose he might want a drink for once."

Arya's face fell. The grey haired man laughed.

"Don't fret. I've seen worse. Anyone with a bit of sense will know you're dressed as Sally Bowles and young Griff seems to like it, which I suppose was the point."

"No it wasn't actually!" Arya said indignantly. She hadn't gone to all that effort for Griff! "I was at a fancy dress charity ball earlier on."

Jon Connington rolled his eyes and snorted. No doubt he'd dealt with hundreds of groupies in his time. Arya was mortified he thought she was another one of them.

"Come on. Let's get you a place to watch the show. I'll tell the roadies you're with Griff or else they'll not leave you alone all night and no wonder - dressed like that." He chuckled. Arya supposed she should be grateful he was going to look out for her.

He guided her to the side of the stage and left her. She expected it to be deafening, this close to the stage, but it wasn't. It was loud, but not unbearable. She supposed the huge speaker stacks were pointing the other way – out into the audience.

The band was mid song and it was strange being so close and only seeing their backs. Duck was the only one she could see properly, thrashing away at his drum kit. Griff had the crowd in the palm of his hand. Every gesture, every thrust of his hips, was met with roars of approval and adulation. What must it be like to be loved by so many people, every night she wondered?

Someone tapped her shoulder, she turned around to see the skinny cloak room attendant, holding a chair and a bottle of Jack Daniels and smiling shyly at her.

"Hi!" she shouted, above the noise of the band.

"Hi!" he yelled back, setting down the chair and placing the bottle beside her. It was impossible to hold a conversation, but she needed to know something, so to his obvious surprise, she took his elbow and guided him back the way she'd come, until they were far enough away from the stage to talk.

"Remember me?" she asked, trying to smile and put him at ease. He looked as if he was about to run away. "I know I'm wearing a stupid fancy dress costume, but you told me about the after show party at the last gig."

He nodded quickly and gulped. His eyes were like a startled rabbit's.

"Is this always your job?"

"What?" he asked nervously. He looked about 12.

"Looking after Griff's girls."

"What girls?"

"His groupies." She laughed, trying to make it sound as if she didn't really care.

"There haven't been any girls before…at least not any like you." He was scarlet and now his eyes had found her chest, he didn't seem to be able to look anywhere else.

"Come on." She cajoled "I've seen the girls hanging around him after the shows. There must be loads of girls."

"Yeah, of course, but he never, you know…shags them."

"Never?" Arya was incredulous.

"Some of the guys think he must be gay. I mean…who wouldn't take advantage of all that pussy if they could…" the young guy sighed wistfully. Obviously he would if _he_ got the chance, but until he got rid of those spots, _pussy_ for him was rather unlikely.

Arya was very surprised and, to be honest relieved. Perhaps she wouldn't be just another notch on his bedpost.

"Any chance of some coke and a glass?"

"Sure" The cloakroom guy scurried away.

_No other girls like her before._ Knowing that made her less anxious.

She turned the chair backwards and straddled it, so she could lean on it and watch the show, but mainly watch Griff. Watching him from the audience before, being caught up in the whole show, she hadn't realised there was so much 'craft' to what he did. Arya had assumed the band just got up and played, but from her new vantage point she could see that every movement, every exaggerated gesture was carefully planned for maximum impact and effect on the audience. The girls screamed when he struck a pose, the guys roared when he spoke to them. He was a master at working the crowd and he was still only twenty. She wondered if it was in his blood – if that's what his father had done and why there was such a mystery about it.

Arya found that she knew all the songs now and they were about six songs into the set when he rushed to the side of stage for the first time while Duck was beating his drums particularly furiously. He took a swig from her bottle of Jack Daniels before giving her a brief, hard, whisky tasting kiss. In seconds he was back on the stage and it gave her a thrill to know all the girls in the audience were screaming for him, yet she was the one he was coming to for a sneaky kiss mid song.

He did it maybe half a dozen times more during the show, each kiss getting slightly longer and more intense. It was like very slow, very erotic foreplay. With each one, she found herself looking forward more eagerly to the next.

When the band came off stage for the first time, after Griff shouted "Goodnight King's Landing – You've been wonderful!" the audience went nuts. The clapping, whistling and yelling for more, was deafening.

Each one of the band had a huge grin on their face and they all high-fived each other as they stood in the wings, waiting for the crowd to work themselves into a frenzy, before they ran back onto the stage for the encore.

Griff was looking longingly over at her, but Jon Connington had appeared for the first time since the show started and was hurriedly talking to the band and pointing at his watch while and the audience screamed for more.

When the stamping feet reached a crescendo, the band ran on stage again, waiving, picking up their instruments and playing the two crowd pleasers that usually closed the show. Arya couldn't sit still any longer and she was on her feet, dancing and clapping along with the rest of the audience, glad no-one could see, or hear her.

This time, when the last song ended Griff made a bee-line for her. She expected another kiss, but a long, slow one this time. However, he didn't kiss her. He shouted 'This song's for you Arya!" took another swig of the Jack Daniels and was back, in the huddle with the band, before they ran back onto the stage for the last time.

"We have something special for you guys tonight!" Griff yelled. His announcement was met by an appreciative roar.

"You guys know we've never covered another band's songs before, because we're not a covers band – we are FIRE AND BLOOD!" The noise made by the audience this time was beyond deafening.

Griff had to put his finger to his lips to get them to stop screaming.

"But we're going to play you another band's song tonight and the only reason we're playing you this, is because I've not written a love song yet." _More screaming_. "But I'm gonna!" More ear splitting screaming, this time from the girls in the audience who obviously liked that idea. Arya did too.

Griff nodded to the base player, who started first, laying down a fast, driving base line. Duck joined in on drums and Arya realised what he was playing for her before he started singing. Sex on Fire by the Kings of Leon. _Cheeky bastard_.

He looked around and pointed at her and then at himself, grinning as Duck pounded those drums.

The audience went wild. They obviously knew all the words and seemed to be trying to drown out the band. Griff only sung the verses, holding his microphone out into the audience so they could sing the chorus back at him,

"_Whoa, Your sex is on fire_!" they roared back at him. And they were right. He was on fire.

He tried to get her to come out to the microphone and stand beside him. He beckoned her over, but she shook her head and buried her face in her hands, laughing. Not dressed like this and especially _not_ to that song when they hadn't even had sex.

This time, when they ran off the stage for the final time, roadies were waiting with towels and bottles of water and Jon Connington was waving them down the corridor, out towards the back of The Tourney. Griff grabbed a bottle of water and Arya's hand, as she grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniels.

The band were whooping and hollering as they ran down the corridor. Someone shouted "America here we come!"

Their adrenalin and enthusiasm were infectious and Arya happily ran beside Griff, clutching his sweaty hand, smiling at him as he grinning and dancing his way to a waiting limousine. Griff stepped back and bowed, letting her go before him. The other four guys in the band were already there and Arya felt incredibly self conscious in her hot pants and stocking, nipples reacting as nipples to do the sudden, cool night air.

She tried to smile at the other guys. Duck was the only one she knew by name, but they seemed happy for her to crash their party and Griff was sitting beside her, arm around her shoulder in moments. The limousine drove off as soon as the door was closed.

They were all talking at once, congratulating each other, wondering what this party was going to be like and babbling about America. Arya watched and listened, happy to be almost forgotten until Duck asked her

"Are you going to drink that whole bottle yourself Arya?"

She had forgotten she even had it and quickly passed it over. Duck took a large slug from the bottle, before passing it around all the other guys. It was offered back to her, but she wasn't keen after that lot had slobbered all over it and was happy to wave it away and leave them to it.

Griff squeezed her shoulder, his arm slick with sweat against her back.

"So what did you think?"

She grinned at him. "Brilliant! Best yet! But…that last song. You shouldn't have!" She elbowed him in the ribs to let him know he wasn't going to get away with it that easily.

"Oww!" he gasped.

"I think it went down great!" Duck said "Write us one like that Griff and you'll get us the stadiums!"

"I'm gonna try" Griff laughed "But I'll need to get some inspiration from somewhere first!" he gave Arya a sideways, lustful glance.

Arya elbowed him in the ribs again.

"Oww!" he gasped again. "Might cost me a few bruised ribs though. I hope you guys appreciate what I'm gonna have to go through to get that song for you!"

The other four laughed and Duck winked at Arya, who blushed scarlet.

It didn't take long to get to the night club. Griff, being last in, was first out of the limo and Arya was shocked when the flashes of cameras, started going off as soon as he had one foot on the ground. She cringed, wanting to hide inside, but he reached in and grabbed her hand, pulling her out into a maelstrom of camera flashes, people shouting for Griff and burly security men bundling them off in the direction of the night club. There were so many flashes, she couldn't see where she was going, trusting in Griff's hand to guide her, keeping her head down and her eyes away from the blinding flashes.

It was marginally calmer in the night club. She vaguely recognised it from some night out with Sansa and her posh friends, but it didn't really matter to Arya what one it was – she thought they were all the same anyway; pointless, pick-up places.

They were ushered into a, roped off, VIP area, already full with men in suits and girls not wearing enough clothes. Tonight Arya supposed she fell into that latter category. As soon as the band arrived in the VIP area, one of their songs started playing and everyone around them started clapping. The boys all grinned and bowed. Arya wanted to shrink away, but Griff wouldn't let go of her hand, so she found herself standing beside him and smiling and thanking people she didn't know for something she hadn't done.

As soon as the band's song ended, the Kings of Leon started. Obviously someone from the gig had spoken to the DJ.

"Wanna dance?" Griff asked and without waiting for her answer, led her around the gold rope, past the huge bouncer and onto the packed dance floor and Good God could he dance! Arya didn't think she'd ever seen a better dancer before, never mind had to dance with one, but he was so good that holding onto him seemed to be enough to pick up his rhythm. Of course, because the song was about sex, he was giving her all the moves. His hands were everywhere, well everywhere they shouldn't be; on the cheeks of her arse, still hanging out of her ridiculous hot pants and on her breasts. At one point she though she even felt him give her clit a sneaky rub. If she didn't know better, she would have imagined she could get pregnant simply by dancing with him – he was _that _hot.

And it made her remember that Gendry couldn't dance. When he tried, he could be quite enthusiastic but he was still crap. Strange, because he was so good at sex. She had read somewhere that you could tell how good a man was going to be in bed by the way he danced. That wasn't true of Gendry, but if it was true of Griff - she was in trouble. She still hadn't decided what she was going to do about that. The largest part of her rational brain didn't want to cheat on Gendry, but it was also screaming at her - _how could it be cheating when he had already done it to her?_ She hated him. But she certainly didn't love Griff and wondered if she was just using him to get revenge on Gendry. Would he mind if he knew?

She was actually rather relieved when the Kings of Leon had sung themselves out and the usual, banal club music restarted.

When they were back in the VIP area, there were more hands to shake, more false smiles to return, but at least there was champagne to drink. At one point Griff tapped her shoulder and as she turned towards him, he immediately planted a hard kiss on her mouth. As she gasped and her lips opened, he passed a mouthful of champagne from his to hers. That one mouthful made her feel more drunk than all the Jack Daniels she'd had at the gig.

Next time they danced, Arya didn't resist or hold back and let herself go with him. He moved against her in a way that would have been illegal in some countries and she found herself wanting more, wanting to unbuckle his belt and see and feel what was under those leather trousers. Any lingering doubts she had about giving him what he wanted were disappearing fast.

When he eventually whispered in her ear "Want to get out of here?" she didn't say no.

He spoke to Jon Connington, who seemed to be making a point of talking to _everyone _at great length and the arrangement were made for the limo to come and pick them up.

More flashbulbs greeted them as they ran from the club to the waiting limo, but at least this time she was prepared and kept her head down and her hand up to shield her eyes.

In the limo she cuddled into him, feeling tense and nervous and a little drunk. He kissed the top of her head, then asked

"When are you going to take this wig off and let me see the real you?"

"I'll need help." She warned. He laughed.

"I'm quite good at the make up and stuff you know!"

She could tell. His black eye make up was almost as good as hers. So, Griff removed exactly 62 pins from Arya's hair in the back of record company limo.

As each pin was removed, a curl tumbled onto her shoulder and he would gently kiss the spot on her shoulder where it landed. Then he would start on the next pin, with deft, gentle hands.

When he found the bruise made by Gendry's teeth, he became angry, asking her about it. But she wouldn't tell and he eventually let it go. Apart from that, it was one of the most sensual things she had ever experienced. With each of the 62 pins, the sexual tension was ramped up until, when they were all done and her face was framed by a mass of tumbling curls, she had no doubts she wanted him to make love to her.

When they got out of the limo, they were in a little, cobbled street, with a cloudless sky above them. The limo driver had to reverse out of the lane.

"Welcome to my home" he murmured as he led her to the nearest door. His home was a mews cottage – really a flat over a garage, but anywhere in central London a garage was like gold dust. He'd obviously bought it for his precious Ferrari, but as soon as they got inside, it was obvious that he hadn't bought it at all.

She had a fit of the giggles as they walked up the steep stair, immediately behind his front door. He had his hands on the bare cheeks of her bottom as she walked up ahead of him, but that wasn't what was making her laugh. The walls were red, with a white and a curling, wiggly line was painted up one side of the wall. He eyes followed the line to a poster at the top of the stairs. It was a poster of an 80's girl on an old fashioned telephone; all spiky hair, wild eye make up and red, glossy lips. The white line from the stair joined the telephone cable on the poster.

"You live in a1980's museum!" she giggled as she looked around.

"Goes with your 80's hair doesn't it?" he smirked. She sighed. He was right. Her 80's curls were back with a vengeance tonight.

The living area was red and white too; all stripes and shiny red plastic. She had never seen anything like it and found it absolutely hilarious that, super cool, rock star Griff lived somewhere like this. The only modern thing in the room was his i-pod dock and a very high tech, music system. There were framed gold and silver discs on the walls and several guitars propped against red or white walls. He didn't seem to mind her laughing.

"Did you deliberately decorate it like this?" she asked, dreading his answer, but he hadn't. His Dad had bought it and moved out in the 1980's. Griff had moved in when he came to London to start a band and had been shocked and then delighted to find his father's old flat _exactly_ the way it had been left.

"I did replace the bathroom and kitchen though, as even I couldn't live with a burgundy toilet and a blue kitchen!" they both laughed, then he asked "Want to see the bedroom?"

She gulped and nodded, there was no going back now.

It was all black and steel and mirrors, but she had no time to notice details as he grabbed her and started kissing her as soon as they were in the room. The slow, teasing Griff was gone and his passion was so sudden, so intense and overwhelming, she had to push him away.

"There's no hurry." She panted, watching his stunned expression. Obviously no-one had ever asked him to stop before. "Just slow down if you want me to enjoy it." If she was going to do this, she was going to do it properly.

With a considerable effort he reined himself in.

She pushed him onto the bed, so he was sitting down and made him watch as she unfasten the little buttons of her waist coat, one by one. She could see his Adam's apple bob up and down and hear his breath sawing with desperate desire.

"Why no groupies Griff?" she murmured as she dropped her waistcoat on the floor, leaving her breasts exposed.

He was obviously struggling to string a sentence together.

"Umm. I can't risk them finding out about…selling stories to the press. I've too much riding on this."

"Finding about what Griff?" She hooked her thumbs in her hot pants and began to ease them down, very slowly.

"Family stuff…secrets." Arya knew enough about family secrets to leave it at that. She had her own that she wouldn't want him to find out about.

She let him ease the hot pants the rest of the way down, then, pulled his T shirt up over his head. He was lean, pale, hairless. He certainly wasn't down at the gym everyday, but he was fit and the slight stubble she felt as she ran her hand across his chest, told her he was hairless through choice, not nature. Without warning, she pushed him on his back and straddled him, rubbing her soft breasts over his chest. He was gasping and grabbing at her suspender clad thighs. She swatted his hands away. She was in control for now.

She moved back and began undoing his belt and carefully unzipped his leather trousers, smiling as his cock, suddenly freed, reared through the opening. No hair there either she noted with surprise.

He helped her ease his trousers off. She was please to see he was big. Not as big as you-know-who, but he would certainly do.

She pushed him on his back again and straddled him, playing with her breasts and letting him play with her suspenders this time. He kept lifting his hips, wanting inside and she wasn't letting him…yet, happy to tease him for a while longer, but he'd had enough.

He sat up and threw her on her back, pushing opening her thighs and finally, fighting to keep control, he slid into her wet, receptive cunt. He couldn't hold back any longer and he thrust into her, like a machine, pumping hard and fast, teeth gritted as he came, not caring if she did or not.

Perhaps she would teach him what she liked, what _any_ woman liked, but not tonight.

Afterwards, when he lay asleep beside her and when she, finally closed her eyes, it certainly wasn't purple eyes she hoped to dream about; they would definitely still be Baratheon blue. She quietly cried herself quietly to sleep that night, for the first time since she was child.

-o-

The next morning, she was up first. After some painkillers, Arya found some filter coffee. She was wearing a man's T shirt again. The last one had said 'Kawasaki'; this one had a picture of a dragon. He padded in, wearing only a pair of jogging bottoms. She avoided making eye contact. The atmosphere was strange and strained after the night before.

"A caffeine fix is what I need. Want one?"

"Yeah. No milk though."

Arya set to work with the cafetiere, trying to be careful and not bang anything too loudly, or make any sudden movements that would exacerbate her pounding headache.

She was aware of Griff leaving the kitchen. The next thing she heard was a guitar being gently strummed and then the tuning being adjusting.

"Any requests?"

"Something soothing" she groaned.

He played a few random chords, obviously thinking.

"Every heard of Jeff Buckley?"

She slowly shook her head. When was he going to accept that she didn't know any the old stuff he liked?

"You'll know this song though."

He picked out some melancholy notes on his guitar, slowly building to chiming chords, but she never recognised the song until he started singing.

"_Well I heard there was a secret chord  
that David played and it pleased the Lord  
But you don't really care for music, do you?..." _

He played and sung 'Hallelujah' softly. She was familiar with the version by the X factor winner a few years back, when she was still at school, but the way he sung it was different; simple, like a heartfelt prayer.

She placed two steaming mugs of coffee on the table and settled down to watch and listen. He was singing with his eyes closed and she took the opportunity to study his face as he sang; her second lover, so different from her first.

The blue hair made his already pale skin look even more otherworldly. There was no blush in his cheeks, no freckles or imperfections; only pale, alabaster skin and boyishly handsome features. There was no hint of shadow on his jaw and no lines to tell the tale of laughter or pain. There was only perfection in every feature. In the arch of the pale eyebrows, the long grey lashes, the lips that sung so beautifully and kissed so eagerly.

His fingers were long and slim and she could see every tendon move under his almost translucent skin as he played. Eventually she closed her eyes too, listening to his voice soar and swoop as he sung about faith and love and loss. She remembered those, pale artistic hands on her last night, desperate for her, holding her tight, so unlike those of the lover she had before.

She could visualise Gendry's hands, blunt thick fingers and wide, calloused palms that would never play a guitar like Griff and Gendry certainly couldn't sing like an angel, but he knew how to play her body to make it sing.

She wasn't even aware of the door opening or of footsteps treading lightly on the stairs and it was only when Griff had finished singing and they heard applause from the other end of the room, that the two of them looked up.

A tall man, slim but with broad shoulders, perhaps in his mid fifties, with white blonde hair falling past his shoulders stood at the top of the stairs. The ribbon of a helium 21st birthday balloon was clamped under one arm, a guitar case sat at his feet and he was clapping enthusiastically from the top of the stairs.

"Beautiful! Bravo!" he yelled.

Griff's smile was a mile wide. As Arya looked from the visitor to Griff and back, the family resemblance was unmistakeable. It was like looking at a future Griff. The older man was tanned, his face lined, but the lilac eyes were the same, the same mouth and lithe body shape, still youthful in jeans, cowboy boots and a white shirt.

Griff put his guitar down and was striding over to hug the man.

"It's been far too long Aegon" the older man chuckled happily as he hugged Griff, only he hadn't called him 'Griff'. He had called him "Aegon."

Arya was bewildered.

Although the visitor was enthusiastically returning Griff's bear hug of an embrace, his eyes never left Arya's even when he said

"I know it's not your birthday yet, but I wanted to give you your present tonight, before you left for America."

Arya had to look away – embarrassed by the intensity of the stranger's stare.

When Griff broke the hug, he turned to Arya

"Dad…meet Lady Arya Stark….Arya; meet my father - Rhaegar Targaryen."

Arya couldn't have said which one of them was more shocked; Jon's father or Lyanna's niece.

And it got worse…. As Rhaegar leaned towards her, kissing each of her cheeks in turn, just as Danni liked to do, she smelled that unmistakeable, wild, wolf scent she knew so well.

_Rhaegar Targaryen was a Werewolf_.

"I brought you a birthday present son." Rhaegar smiled, handing Griff, the foil balloon. "I had that old Gibson guitar of mine reconditioned for you. I used it the first time I toured America. I thought it was about time you had a decent guitar." He joked, laughing as Griff eagerly went to retrieve the guitar case from the top of the stairs. While Griff was busy, Rhaegar slid into the seat opposite Arya.

"Lady Arya Stark" he mused, as his intense purple eyes took in everything about her.

Arya shifted uncomfortably in her seat and looked down at her coffee, unable to maintain eye contact. Her mind was racing; this was Jon's dad, so Griff or Aegon as his father called him, must be Jon's half brother. She'd spent the night in bed with Jon's brother and she'd unknowingly left Storm's End with a Targaryen. She'd gone and done exactly what her aunt had. Dear God. It couldn't be true…but it seemed to be…

"You remind me very much of a girl I once knew. Her name was 'Stark' too. Rhaegar said softly, a smile playing on his lips, as if the memory was happy one.

Arya gulped, knowing what was coming next and dreading it.

"Lyanna Stark of Winterfell!" she blurted out.

A shocked look flitted across Rhaegar's face, but was gone in an instant, to be replaced by a calm, confident smile.

"Yes, Lyanna. Do you know her? Last time I saw her, she looked just like you. Perhaps you're related?"

"She's my aunt…_was_ my aunt."

"_Was…_?" The same shocked looked crossed his face but stayed this time. He groaned, suddenly looking much older. "It's been a long time, but she couldn't have been that old….what happened?"

How the hell did she answer that?

Before she could, there was an almighty crash at the bottom of the stairs, followed immediately by heavy footsteps pounding up the stairs.

"Arya! Are you here?!" she heard a desperate voice call. It was Gendry. He had found her already.

Rhaegar was on his feet immediately, sniffing the air. He did what she had seen Gendry do; his eyes gleamed orange and lethal claws sprung from his fingertips.

Gendry was at the top of the stairs, with Loras and Jon not far behind. His eyes sprang from her to Griff and stayed on Rhaegar. They obviously knew instantly what the other was.

"Get over here Arya." Gendry demanded.

Rhaegar growled a warning that reverberated around the room. Griff looked as though he was about to faint.

"Don't order me around! And you can fuck right off you cheating bastard!" Arya spat.

Gendry clenched his jaw and through gritted teeth, slowly and deliberately said

"We'll talk later, but you're coming with me…_now_."

"She told you no!" Rhaegar snarled.

"Who the fuck are you?" Gendry drawled contemptuously.

"_Rhaegar Targaryen"_

Arya's eyes flitted to Jon. He looked like he had just seen a ghost. The bombshell of information barely registered on Loras' face. His focus was on Gendry and the threat across the room.

"…_and by the looks of it you're a Baratheon. Well, I'll not make the same mistake twice. You're wrong Baratheon if you think you can take her from me_."

Gendry grinned slowly, contemptuously. Determination and barely contained aggression radiated from every pore. Arya had never seen him like this before and it terrified her.

"Bring it on old man…" he sneered. Those blue eyes gleamed orange, the lips curled back, revealing canine teeth that grew and elongated as she watched. Panic and fear began to grip her chest.

Someone roared "_**NO!**_"


	31. Chapter 31 - The Countdown

**Chapter 31**

**The Countdown**

**I have to thank you guys for all your thoughtful reviews. I think I must have the best reviewers out there! I've certainly never read another story that has so many long, considered reviews. It shows me how much you care and that makes me a very happy Lady. **

**Now an apology – I know I said no more Fridays off until the end, but I had expected to be finished by now and I'm obviously not. I'm off for a week, to a remote Scottish Island with my Gendry (lol – he loves it when I call him that) and I'm not taking my laptop. So I'm afraid there will another empty Friday. After that, no more breaks until The End. Promise.**

As Loras walked through the central courtyard, he could already feel the heat and beating hearts of a thousand guests, hear their inane chatter and smell those damn flowers. His phone had started pinging half way back to the Castle, no doubt with the information he'd requested on Griff, but no calls. So Emmon Cuy hadn't managed to get hold of Margaery or his Grandmother. No surprise there then.

In the hour since he'd left the Charity Ball, the atmosphere had changed. The free flowing booze had already loosed the guest's tongues and raised their voices. The polite, reserved chatter had already degenerated into a rather raucous party. That was the point after all. Hopefully their wallets and purses would be loosened along with the social restraints and this would prove to be another bumper year for their charities.

Loras usually enjoyed it; mostly because it was the culmination of months of planning and weeks of work. At last he could, finally relax with Renly and enjoy the party. But not this year.

He found himself pushing past the inebriated guests, ignoring all their attempts to greet him, not caring whose toes he trod on, either literally or figuratively.

It was with great relief that he made it to his office and shut the door behind him. The air conditioning made it chilly, but fresh and at least he could breathe easily…and get to work.

His 'office' wasn't merely a single office. It was the nerve centre of Storm's End and Baratheon Security operations. It gave him a great deal of satisfaction to walk past the rows of computers and banks of monitors, watching his staff deal efficiently with their busiest night of the year. It was all hands on deck and still they were spread too thin. The round-the-clock protection of Edric at the hospital, even with the unexpected assistance of Jaime Lannister, was tying up a huge amount of their resources.

The Full Moon tomorrow night was going to be a bugger. He'd need to try to get some sleep before then as he knew he was also stretched too thin. Danni's news couldn't have come at a worse time as far as he was concerned. Just when he needed Jon to step up and put all those hours of training and preparation to good use, Jon was away off on pregnancy cloud 9. Loras had briefly wondered if his own bad temper was caused by jealously. However he had many more pressing things to worry about right now than any _feelings_ he had for Jon.

He greeted all of his staff by name and was pleased to note that most of them were too busy to even acknowledge his presence.

"Bryce, I'd like a full report on the evening's events in my room in ten."

Bryce Caron looked up from his bank of computer screens and nodded.

Loras shut his personal office door behind him and collapsed into his chair. He rested his elbows on his desk and his head on his hands. He could immediately feel his eyelids droop and his brain begin to disengage. It took a great deal of will power to lift his head, focus on the screen and type in his password. Instantly the screen filled with data. He might as well start with what Cuy had sent him on Griff.

_Christ._ The boy had his own Wikipedia entry. Nice photo.

Loras scan read the content. The background information was surprisingly sparse. Arya wasn't wrong. No surname. He was '_just Griff_' after all. No date of birth – "believed to be 20, believed to be born in France. Unconfirmed."

Multi-instrumentalist, main songwriter of 'Fire and Blood'. Those words rang a vague bell somewhere in the exhausted recesses of Loras' mind. According to Wikipedia it was the name of Griff's band, but Loras was pretty sure he'd never heard of the band before and that it wasn't a musical bell the name was ringing. Fire and Blood also had their own Wikipedia page. Another interesting photo, this one had Griff centre stage and shirtless, but it was no more enlightening than the entry on Griff himself.

The most notable thing about Griff's entry was the amount of 'citation needed' and 'according to who?' comments that peppered the page. The boy was either a master of spin and media manipulation or he had something to hide. Being a suspicious bugger by nature, Loras was inclined towards the latter explanation.

The Intel on the Ferrari was _much_ more enlightening. Loras had to read the data twice, then stop and rub his eyes, convinced he was hallucinating. He had to read it again before he believed what he was seeing on the screen.

In 1984, the car had been purchased by a Rhaegar Targaryen and was still registered in his name. Two people with the same unusual name, able to afford a Ferrari Testarossa in 1984? Too much of a coincidence and Loras didn't do coincidences. And he finally remembered why 'Fire and Blood' was so familiar – the motto of House Targaryen. Loras immediately searched the internet for images of Rhaegar Targaryen; another singer in another rock band from another era. He split the screen, filling one side with images of Rhaegar and the other with images of Griff. Get rid of the blue hair and there was no mistaking the resemblance. Fuuuuuck.

What had Arya said? Griff was 'a friend' of Jon's. Did Jon know his 'friend' was his really his half brother? Loras was sure Arya didn't know. He would have known if she was lying. Fuck.

His exhaustion instantly forgotten, Loras pulled in the images he had of Jon from the Storm's End database. He divided the screen in three; with Jon in the middle. Loras had always thought Jon looked like a male version of Arya; a Stark through and through, but side by side with Griff and Rhaegar he could see a slight familial resemblance; particularly around the mouth. They all shared the same thin upper lip, full lower. Loras was still engrossed in studying the images when his phone rang. It was Emmon Cuy from the guard house.

"As you suspected, I couldn't get hold of Margaery or Lady Redwyne, so I've got Garlan on the line from Highgarden."

Loras grunted, still trying to focus on his screen. Cuy put the call through.

"Hey Loras. What do you want?"

Loras pretended to be offended. "What do you mean – _what do I want?_!"

They both chuckled. It was a standing family joke, but it was also true. Neither contacted the other unless they wanted something these days.

"I'm looking for advice from my big brother."

Garlan groaned. "I don't like it when you say that – it's always trouble. Like when you asked me if you should join the Air Force, leave the Air Force and that time you and Renly…"

"Ok, Ok, I know." Loras interrupted, anxious to stop Garlan before he added to his list of embarrassing memories.

"So what is it this time?" Garlan laughed.

"How's Margaery?"

"How the hell should I know? She's been with you in Storm's End for a month! …hasn't she?" Loras could hear the sudden panic in his brother's voice when he thought Margaery might be missing or in trouble.

"Yeah, she has been, but she left this evening, in a hell of a hurry. She was with Granny and I'm concerned they're up to something."

Garlan chortled, "Margaery does her best to keep the old girl amused."

Loras certainly wasn't amused with either his sister or his Lady Redwyne at the moment. "Come on Garlan. I know Margaery tells Granny everything and the old girl confides in you. What are they up to?"

"Well I thought you'd know better than me! Granny tells me Margaery has finally found 'The One'. Tells me it's a wedding this time for sure. Stinking rich, good looking, bit of a bastard. You know – the usual with Margaery. He's related to Renly she said….and his name even sounded similar…oh, what was it again…."

"Gendry Baratheon" Loras groaned softly.

"That's the one! Margaery's going to be Lady Baratheon of Storm's End at last! Ha! I always said she should be – if only she'd got to Renly before you did - eh?" Garlan was chuckling happily at the other end of the phone. Then he stopped suddenly "Hey, how come I'm having to tell _you_ this Loras? I thought you had eyes in the back of your head!"

Loras paused. This was going to be awkward. "Because Margaery and I don't agree on this at all."

"Now you listen to me Loras!" Garlan snapped in his '_I'm your older brother and you'll do what I tell you_' voice.

"If Margaery wants to marry him, she'll damn well marry him, whether you approve or not. Don't you dare interfere!"

"I'll damn well interfere if I think she's fucking up the lives of two other people!"

There was a stony silence. It was Garlan who spoke first.

"I think you have been spending too much time away from your family Loras; all those years in the military and now with the Baratheons. I wouldn't like to think you've forgotten where your loyalties lie. How many times did father tell us we only grow strong together? Whatever Margaery is doing, has done or will do, she's your sister and must have your full support!"

_Fuck!_ Thought Loras. He should have known to wait for Willas, who didn't jump to conclusions so readily and was less likely to believe their spoilt little sister could do no wrong. It was probably already too late - Garlan would get to Willas first and Highgarden would close ranks around Margaery. He would have done the same – in the past, in different circumstances.

"Thanks for your help Garlan. I'll be in touch."

Garlan snorted. "No doubt when you want something else little brother."

Loras hung up.

-o-

Jon was bored shitless. Danni was taking to this networking thing like a duck to water and Jon found himself trailing around after her, as the first person she spoke too simply _had _to introduce her to someone else, so did the next person and the one after that. Some of them even wanted to converse in French and his grasp of Danni's native language wasn't good enough for him to join in with a fast conversation in a loud room.

Nevertheless, the first few times, Jon made an effort to engage in conversation, trying to ignore the lecherous looks he received from the women in the company and the resentful, jealous looks from their men. Jon had never appreciated that his wearing so few clothes could have such a great effect on so many people. It was only flesh and they all had it. Maybe it was the shaved chest and the baby oil that did it. He decided he was never shaving his chest, wearing a loincloth or smothering himself in baby oil ever again and certainly not all at the same time. It attracted way too much fucking attention.

The only enjoyable thing about the evening so far was getting to look at Danni's arse and legs as she was repeatedly led away in front of him. He had never thought it possible, but even that view, repeated too often, was beginning to loose its appeal. So when Loras came for him, he was relieved to be able to whisper his apologies to Danni and leave with Loras.

The head of Baratheon Security was also dressed as a Gladiator, albeit one with rather more clothes and Jon was slightly worried Loras was calling him away for a spot of baby oil Gladiator games. He hoped not, as he was more or less sober tonight and he wasn't up for a repeat performance of the events that had occurred the last time they got drunk together. He hoped Loras had believed him when Jon had sworn it was strictly a one off.

They had to make their way from one end of the Ballroom to another and following Loras' arse wasn't nearly as appealing as following Danni's and it was tediously time consuming. Jon found himself wishing Loras would use that sword hanging from his hip to cut a broad swathe through the crowd. The drunker the guests got, the harder it was to make your way through the crowd.

To Jon's surprise, Loras didn't stop once they were out of the Ballroom. The corridors were relatively empty and they were able to walk side by side, but Loras never elaborated on his original "Come with me. We need to talk."

"Everything ok?" Jon ventured.

"We'll find out soon won't we?" Loras replied tersely. Jon didn't push it; instead he wondered what else could have possibly gone wrong as they marched towards Loras' office.

As soon as Jon walked into Loras' own office and saw the images of Griff, Rhaegar and himself on the screen, he knew why he had been summoned. But why now? Why in the middle of the Charity Ball?

"Take a seat." Loras said. Was it an order? Jon sat anyway.

"Something you omitted to tell me Jon?"

"Well…I didn't think it was any of your business to be honest." Jon said quietly. He hadn't got his thoughts about his family straight in his own mind yet. Why the hell would he tell Loras when he hadn't told Griff?

Loras sighed and put his feet up on the desk.

"So you knew?" Loras asked.

"Yeah. I knew a while ago who Griff's father was. He confided in me and I swore that I wouldn't tell anyone else. He doesn't want anyone to know until he makes it big himself – doesn't want to be accused of riding on his father's reputation. Obviously I never knew then that Rhaegar was my father too."

"Does Arya know Griff is your half brother?"

"No." Jon screwed up his face. He hadn't told her, he knew Gendry hadn't told her. Why would Loras want to know that? What difference did it make whether Arya knew or not? "Why are you asking?"

Another big sigh from Loras.

"Arya left with Griff about an hour ago."

Jon pulled another face. "Why would she do that?" he wondered aloud.

"I was hoping you could tell me."

The two of them sat in silence for a while. Jon was trying to work out why on earth Arya would leave Storm's End in the middle of a party with Griff. If Griff was in trouble he'd hardly call Arya. Griff would call Danni or Jon or even Gendry. Yeah, well maybe not Gendry anymore, seeing as Gendry was a jealous bugger and Griff wasn't much better. But still, Arya wouldn't leave with Griff without a good reason.

"No idea."

"Well she left with a suitcase and a bad attitude. Told me she'd phoned a 'friend'. I wish we all had hot rock star friends who'd pick us up in their Ferrari."

So Arya had phoned Griff? Why the hell would she do that? _Jon groaned._ He knew there was only one reason she would phone Griff - to make Gendry jealous. What had that stupid fuck Gendry gone and done now?

"Margaery's gone too. Also under suspicious circumstances. I want to know what's going on Jon."

"How the fuck do I know? All I can tell you is that Arya would only phone Griff to piss Gendry off and that she doesn't like Margaery – Danni told me that, but you don't need to be Sherlock Homes to work that one out. You'll need to ask Gendry what's going on."

"Yeah. You would think, but there's one added complication."

Jon raised an eyebrow.

"Arya made me promise not to tell Gendry who she was with for 24 hours."

Jon snorted. "Smart move Arya, 'cos Gendry will fucking kill Griff when he finds out. And I'm not fucking telling him! I don't want the blame from Arya or from Griff!"

"I don't want you to tell him; in fact I think it's vital we _don't _tell him. The last thing we need is Gendry buggering off and going Werewolf on Griff Targaryen's pretty little ass. I need your help Jon. Tyrion Lannister is arriving soon to give us the Intel we need for tomorrow night. It's going to take everything this Pack has got and more if we're going to take Tywin Lannister out tomorrow and save Edric…"

"And bite me." Jon interrupted.

"Yeah…and bite you. Glad to hear you're still up for that. I thought Danni's news might have changed your mind."

Jon looked grim. "After everything I've seen, I know there's no better way to protect my child…and my wife, than become what you are."

A relieved smile spread across Loras' face "Glad to hear it. Now let's take a look at what the hell has been going on."

The both turned to the screen. Loras minimised the images of Targaryen men and started clicking through the CCTV. He started with the images from 3 hours previously. Gendry wasn't hard to spot in the Ballroom; a head taller than almost everyone else and green.

"Where's his ears?" Loras wondered.

"Oh, the Shrek hair band thing? He said he wasn't wearing that, so he's The Hulk." Jon explained.

Loras just snorted and played it fast forward. It was like watching some social swarm of bees. Gendry was obviously a King bee as he was pretty static, while guests hovered around him like drones. Jon even caught sight of himself bustling around the room after Danni at ten times normal speed - not a good look he decided. Loras obviously noticed too and seemed to find it highly amusing. Jon wished he was in charge of the mouse. He could have sworn Loras replayed the same bit over and over – either that or he had been trailing around and around in circles after Danni all night.

Jon was still watching himself with an increasing sense of embarrassed frustration when he saw Arya rush past. "There she is!" he yelled, pointing at the screen. Loras scrolled back a few screens

"Where?" he asked, peering at the screen. Jon pointed again at the unmistakeable Queen of Hearts meringue dress, the red wig and crown – "There!"

"That's not Arya that Margaery." Loras said dismissively, scrolling forward again. "They swapped costumes. Arya was wearing Margaery's Cabaret costume when Griff picked her up and I have to say, she's got the legs for it. You should have seen the look on young Griff's face. I thought his tongue was going to roll out and hit the ground." Loras chuckled. "I presumed you knew."

"How would I know? You told me bloody Marg always wore the Cabaret costume and that Arya was Queen of Hearts! That's what I told Gendry!"

Loras slowed the speed right down and the two of them watched as Margaery purposefully crossed diagonally in front of Gendry, only a few feet away, but with a half dozen people in-between them. She seemed to be ignoring him, which was strange in itself, but she also had her head and upper body turned away from him. It was obvious Gendry spotted her as he seemed to lean in her direction. His gaze was fixed on the direction she was heading and you could tell from his body language that he was trying to extricate himself from the group of people surrounding him.

"What's he doing?" Loras asked as they watched Gendry push his way through the crowd to follow Margaery, who was now well ahead.

"He must think she's Arya."

Loras snorted. "As you'll find out Jon, it takes more than fancy dress to fool a wolf. He can smell her a mile away."

"So why's he following Margaery then?"

Loras didn't have an answer. So they watched as Margaery disappeared off the right hand side of the screen, swiftly followed by Gendry.

Loras clicked through a few more camera angles before finding one that showed the rear of the Ballroom. There were fewer people in this frame and, as Loras scrolled through, it was easier to spot Margaery, running, holding up her skirts and disappearing behind a tapestry hung on the wall. Then they watched in disbelief as Gendry stopped in front of the tapestry, took a look around, as if to make sure he wasn't being watched and then followed Margaery behind the tapestry.

"Shit!" Loras exclaimed. That leads to a service staircase with no CCTV. The next camera is on the first floor." He clicked through the options until he found an image of an empty corridor. Jon recognised that corridor - all of their rooms led off it. Loras scrolled through the CCTV from that camera quickly. Nothing. He was just about to close that feed down, when Jon spluttered "Wait!"

He had spotted a figure at the end of the corridor just as Loras was about to press 'close'. Arya appeared, running down the corridor, wiping her nose, obviously upset. Loras looked at the time on the image.

"That's fifteen minutes after Gendry and Margaery disappear. What do you think happened in those fifteen minutes?"

Jon and Loras looked at each other; both thinking that Gendry had been caught with Margaery, but neither wanting to believe it or say it out loud.

"You're sure he knew it wasn't Arya?" Jon asked with a groan.

Loras nodded, closing his eyes and massaging his aching head with his hands. Fuuuck.

"I can't believe it. I really can't. They were shagging this afternoon – Gendry and Arya I mean." Jon felt he needed to clarify that. He'd heard them at it in the next room. You didn't need supernatural hearing to hear them. Jon felt a flush of embarrassment colour his cheeks. Danni and he had been doing the same thing at the same time. With all the groaning and moaning, it had been like listening to a porn tape in stereo; Danni wriggling and panting under him and the other two shagging enthusiastically in the next room.

"If he's cheated on Arya I'll fucking kill him. Seriously Loras. I will. But I still can't believe it. Arya and Gendry were always meant to be together and he's fucking besotted with her. No way would he have cheated on her…and with bloody Margaery of all people!...No offence to your sister by the way…but you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." Loras groaned. "This is all I fucking need; a shit storm on the eve of the Full Moon."

"I'm going to go and find him. Make him tell me what the fuck he thinks he's playing at." Jon pushed his chair away and stood up. Loras lifted his feet of the desk and slowly stood up too.

"Ok, but I think we should go and investigate the 'scene of the crime' first. There's more to this than meets the eye…or the nose. I spoke to my brother Garlan earlier and he thinks Gendry and Margaery are going to get married."

"What?! Why? How?"

"Because that's what Margaery told him." Loras could hardly believe it himself when he said it out loud.

"But…" Jon spluttered.

"I know" Loras groaned. "My sister has always been…I don't know..." He sighed. "…spoiled, always getting her own way, a bit of a fantasist. She even thought she could marry Renly at one point; thought it would be a 'marriage of convenience' that would suit everyone and that I wouldn't mind. Convenient for Margaery and no-one else, but why would Margaery care about anyone else?" Loras asked bitterly.

Jon didn't know what to say and hoped that Loras had just asked a rhetorical question.

"We'll be quicker going up to the first floor then down that staircase, rather than trying to fight our way across the Ballroom again."

"Oh, I don't know. You've got your sword and I've got mine!" Jon waived his rubber sword, trying to lighten the mood. Loras couldn't resist getting his out. The steel of the sharpened blade glinted under the lights.

"Hey – not fair! How come you've got that and I've got a rubber one?" Jon squawked in mock indignation.

"Become my assistant Head of Security and you can have any damn sword you want."

"Err, about that Loras…"

Loras groaned "Just don't tell me tonight Jon. I've got enough on my Goddamn plate without you telling me you're buggering off to find your fucking father too."

Jon was shocked that Loras knew what he was planning.

"Gendry told me." Loras explained.

Damn. Jon liked it better when Loras and Gendry didn't talk. It was impossible to keep a secret from anyone in this place, or was it? Had Gendry been cheating on Arya under their noses all this time? He didn't want to believe it – but when he thought about the long lunches at Baratheon Enterprises there was a doubt in his mind. Jon's anger flared. He would never forgive Gendry if he'd broken Arya's heart.

As they made their way along the residential corridor on the first floor, Loras' wolf senses confirmed Arya had been here. Her scent still lingered, but he couldn't detect Gendry's beyond his room door, or Margaery's.

Even before they made it to the service staircase, the smell of Margaery's flowers was choking. It only grew stronger as they trotted down the first flight. The sound of music and general noise from the Ballroom also increased. When they reached the ground floor, Jon pulled the tapestry to the side. Sure enough – there was the Ballroom. The floor was now filled with dancers and a 1940's style Big Band was belting out a tune he recognised but couldn't name.

"Can you name that tune Loras?"

"In the mood by the Glen Miller band and no, I wasn't around when it was a hit." Loras grunted.

Jon dropped the tapestry back into place, turned around and was surprised to see Loras crouched down, sniffing the floor. Jon stood and watched as Loras swivelled around, sniffing this way and that.

When he eventually stood up he didn't look at all happy.

"What is it?" Jon wondered.

"Well, I can hardly smell anything. Something's blocking me and it's not just those fucking flowers Margaery put everywhere. The other scents….they're just gone, or at least I can't smell them. It gets worse the nearer I get to the stairs going down. I can tell you all four of them have been here, but further down…I don't know."

"Four?" Jon wondered.

"Arya, Margaery, Gendry…and Renly." Loras looked grim.

"Renly?" Jon echoed. "Why was he here?"

"I don't know, but I'll sure as hell find out" Loras muttered through gritted teeth. "Later. We need to keep going down just now…"

The two of them set off down the spiral staircase. Loras sniffed the air with every step, cursing under his breath. Even Jon found the smell of the lilies, or whatever they were, overpowering. As soon as the rounded the last bend in the staircase, it became obvious why. Half a dozen of the huge vases were scattered around, in between beer kegs and broken chairs.

"Nice" Jon drawled sarcastically.

Loras headed straight for the nearest vase and, to Jon's surprise kicked it over. Water, porcelain from the vase and flowers scattered everywhere. Loras crouched down and examined the mess. He pulled his sword out and started poking at the flowers with the sharp steel tip.

"Have a look at this."

Jon crouched down beside him. Loras' sword was prodding a tiny, bluebell like flower.

"Aconitum…more commonly know as _Wolfsbane_." Loras hissed contemptuously.

"Can it hurt you?" Jon gasped, taking an involuntary step back from the harmless looking little flower.

"It strips us of our powers. It's used by our enemies to weaken us, level the playing field if you like – make us no better than humans."

"So now would be a good time to take advantage of you? I might even be able to finally beat you at arm wrestling?" Jon joked, but Loras wasn't in the mood for jokes.

"So why is it here…in Storm's End?" Jon asked seriously.

"It's not in the vases upstairs or I would have known. Someone put it down here deliberately; someone who knows about us and who wants to render us powerless. Knock over all the other vases and tell me if it's in them too."

Jon did was he was asked, leaving the floor swimming in water, while Loras prowled further down the corridor.

"Yeah – it's in every vase" Jon shouted across to Loras.

"See if you can collect them all and seal them in a bag or something. I need to be able to smell what's been going on here."

Again Jon did as he was told. There were no bags, so he had to improvise, dropping the stems one by one, into an empty beer keg. He took a plastic stopper from a full keg and rammed it onto the open keg, sealing the Wolfsbane away. The smell of beer now permeated the air.

"Ah, that's better!" Loras seemed to be able to notice the difference instantly. "Pity there's not a window down here we can open as it's still lingering; however I think I've caught the scent now."

"Scent of what?"

"Sex."

Jon opened his mouth to ask and then shut it again. He wasn't going to ask; Loras would tell him when he was ready. Again Loras was down on the ground, sniffing, touching and sniffing again. When he finally stood up, he looked dismayed.

"Gendry definitely. Arya too, but not as strongly and also, so faintly that I can't be sure, Margaery. Damn this Wolfsbane!"

"But why would Arya be running away crying if they'd been shagging down here?" Jon wondered.

"Exactly. But we know Gendry followed _Margaery _down here, not Arya and that someone went to great lengths to make sure Gendry couldn't utilise any of his Werewolf senses while he was here."

"It's got to be the swapping of the costumes hasn't it?" Jon blurted out, a sick feeling rising from the pit of his stomach. "Gendry thought Margaery was Arya and that's what Margaery wanted him to think. She could have planted the Wolfsbane when she organised the flowers."

"Gendry had sex with Margaery. Then Margaery left in a hurry with Lady Redwyne." Loras groaned.

"And Arya left with Griff. I knew the only reason she'd leave with him was to fuck Gendry off. No we know why. So Arya must have found out and that's why she phoned Griff."

"And I've promised not to tell him for 24 hours; meanwhile Margaery has high tailed it back to the safety of Highgarden." Loras checked his watch. "She'll be there by now and, to be honest, we can't waste the time, or the manpower to try and drag her back. One of us would need to go and I'm not sure if my beloved brother Garlan would be amenable to our dragging Margaery back kicking and screaming. Margaery's got him wrapped around her finger." Loras groaned. "She's got the whole of Highgarden wrapped around her finger. Not one of them would oppose Lady Redwyne and she seems to be in on Margaery's scheme too."

"So what do we do?"

"Our priority has to be Edric and we've only got one shot at Tywin Lannister. We meet Tyrion as arranged and we stick to the plan for the Full Moon."

"And Gendry?"

"We need him here with us, so we lie. We tell him Arya's got a headache or some fucking thing and we worry about that particular shit storm _after_ the Full Moon."

Jon looked unconvinced.

"You got a better idea?" Loras challenged.

"No" Jon had to admit reluctantly "but what about Arya? And it's hardly Gendry's fault _your sister_ tricked him."

Loras didn't appreciate that dig.

"Phone Arya and tell her if you like, but I can't spare you Jon. You know that. I need you – Edric needs you. Gendry will be alright. He's a big boy."

"And Arya?" Jon demanded.

"Don't you think she can take care of herself? I hardly think Griff's going to let her come to any harm. It's only 36 hours Jon. 36 hours to save Edric's life and get revenge for what they did to him."

Jon reluctantly agreed. "But one thing's still bothering me Loras."

"What now?" Loras snapped as they made their way back up the stairs to the Ballroom.

"How did Margaery know about Wolfsbane? I didn't know about it and I didn't even know _she knew_ our secret."

"I've never told her about us…about the Wolves. Unless…" Loras tailed off, his golden eyes suddenly flashing fire.

"Renly." They both said together.

-o-

Renly, or Julius Caesar as he was tonight, was sitting at the top table, along with a dozen other important looking men, talking business. It took Loras and Jon twenty minutes of increasingly exasperated cajoling, to get Renly to leave their company and, even then, he wasn't happy.

"I was working on closing a very advantageous distribution deal boys and Tyrion isn't due for another hour. This better be important."

"It is" Loras snarled, leading them all to a small, private room where they could talk without risking being overheard.

"Hmm, this is cosy." Renly mused as Loras shut the door firmly behind them "and I have to say, the two of you are looking quite magnificent tonight. I'm really liking that smooth chest look Jon; so much more…metrosexual."

Jon mumbled reluctant thanks while Loras paced up and down.

"I'll not beat about the bush Renly. Did you tell Margaery about us being Werewolves?"

"Ahh…well…"

"I'll take that as a yes" Loras snapped.

"Did you tell Margaery about Wolfsbane?"

"No, but …"

"No 'buts' Renly. Did you or didn't you?"

"I don't like your tone Loras. I was just going to say…any idiot can read about Wolfsbane on the internet." Renly pursed his lips and glared at Loras, who was still pacing. "If you are accusing me of something, just spit it out."

"What were you doing on the service stair?"

"Looking for Gendry. As head of Baratheon Enterprises, he had to give the welcome address. I shouted for him, he came up the stairs, reeking of sex, had obviously been shagging down there, in the middle of my charity Ball, but I've given up trying to teach that boy manners."

Loras nodded almost imperceptibly to Jon, letting Jon know he believed what Renly said.

Renly held his hands up.

"I admit I told Margaery about the Wolves. She knew something was going on with all that showing off in the gym. She's not stupid – ordinary humans can't do what we do. I just confirmed what she already suspected."

"Why didn't you tell me?!" Loras demanded, obviously taking the omission as a personal slight.

Jon wondered how he could escape. The atmosphere was becoming tense and strained. He certainly didn't want to have to witness a lovers' tiff and he thought Loras' requirement that he and Renly tell each other everything was already pretty hypocritical. Loras had his own secrets - unless he had already told Renly what he had got up to with Jon when they had been drunk. Jon swallowed hard, suddenly very uncomfortable and feeling a desperate need to go to the bathroom.

"Because you've got enough on your plate Loras" Renly sighed, running his hands through his hair in exasperation. "It would just be one more thing for you to worry about and _I'm _worried about _you_ already. Look at you – you're running on empty."

"I know." Loras muttered, sitting down heavily beside Renly. Renly put his arm around Loras' shoulders, giving him a hug and tender kiss on the cheek. Jon had to look away.

"I think we need a holiday. It's been too long. How about you and I get away after this Moon – leave these young ones to hold the fort for a while?" Renly looked up expectantly at Jon, who was shifting uncomfortably from one foot to another. Jon had hoped to leave as soon as he recovered from The Bite. It looked like Renly's guilt trip might put a stop to that.

"Would you do that for me Jon?" Loras asked quietly, sounding exhausted and fixing Jon with those, now so familiar, golden eyes.

Jon heard himself agreeing.

-o-

Gendry was holding court at the bar, voice booming, cracking jokes and laughing at his own. His audience were rapt, men and women, hanging on every word, delighting in his attention if he deigned to include them in his conversation. Loras momentarily closed his eyes. When you couldn't see the green paint and could only hear the voice, it could have been Robert standing there. Now that was a frightening thought.

Gendry spotted them approaching yelling "There's my Pack!"

Loras wanted to punch some sense into him, but settled for grinding his teeth and glaring at him. It was Jon who said "Time to go big guy."

Gendry had obviously been drinking and that wasn't part of the plan.

"Got to go! Duty calls!" he yelled to everyone within earshot. "Enjoy the rest of the Ball – remember it's for the widows and orphans and dig deep when the time comes!"

"It's not the fucking Widows and Orphans tonight! It's the Soldiers and kids!" Loras hissed at Gendry as they walked away.

"Oh! Never mind. They'll be too pissed to care in another hour. I'm too pissed to care right now. Man, I am on fire tonight! I feel like I've turned a corner Loras. You never told me alcohol could take the edge off. I feel fucking great! Bring on the Full Moon!"

Loras, Jon and Renly all exchanged worried glances.

"Hey, have you seen Arya?" Gendry craned his neck, looking around. I haven't seen her since…oh for a few hours."

Loras and Renly could smell sex on him, sex and Arya's perfume, faintly now, but it was there. Gendry was happy, obviously oblivious to having been manipulated by Margaery and now _certainly_ wasn't the time to tell him. Drunk Gendry wasn't reasonable Gendry.

"She…had a headache. She's away to lie down in a dark room." Loras lied.

Gendry stopped dead. "Is she ok? Why didn't she tell me, I should go check on her…" he decided, slurring his words ever so slightly.

"Oh no you don't big guy. We need you. We're going to discuss Tywin Lannister. Arya will be fine." Loras took Gendry's arm, trying to steer him towards his office. Gendry shook him off and Loras wasn't pleased to see his palm and fingers were now green.

"She didn't have a headache earlier. I think I should go…."

"Nope. We need you here. Danni will go and check on her – right Jon?" Jon nodded.

"She _definitely_ didn't have a headache earlier." Gendry grinned in a self satisfied way, swaying rather alarmingly. "She'd told me no more sex but then she must have changed her mind…" Gendry suddenly shut up, realising Arya would be livid if she found out he was discussing their sex life with Jon and bloody Loras and Renly.

"And then what?" Renly coaxed.

"None of your Goddamn business!" Gendry suddenly roared.

"This isn't the time or the place." Loras interrupted smoothly, shooting warning glances towards the other two. He had picked up on what Gendry had just said - Arya had told him no more sex. This could be exactly what he needed to get them through the next 36 hours.

"Arya said she had a headache Gendry. She also said it would be better if she didn't see you until after the Full Moon." Loras lied again.

"Did she say that?" Gendry wailed. "She already told me no more sex and now there's no more Arya. This is torture Loras! Torture!"

"Never mind; you can make up for it afterwards. Now let's get you some coffee and something to eat before Tyrion arrives."

"I'd rather get another drink." Gendry grumbled, suddenly wheeling around and heading back to the bar. It took Jon and Loras together to turn him back towards Loras' office. Gendry mumbled something incoherent but didn't try to make a break for the bar again.

-o-

There was a knock at the door and the four of them swivelled around in their chairs as the door opened. They had to drop their eyes by about three feet in order to see their guest. Tyrion Lannister stood in the doorway, painted green; wearing what looked like a one shouldered, green, play suit, made of leaves. A large, green, leaf shaped hat was perched on his head at a jaunty angle and he had pointed, green pixie boots on his feet.

"Thank you so much for coming tonight Tyrion. I'm sorry it had to be at such short notice and in such awkward circumstances." Renly said, speaking for them all.

"Snap!" Tyrion yelled, pointing at a, similarly green, Gendry.

Jon and Gendry were struggling to keep their faces straight. Seeing their expressions, Tyrion gleefully declared "I'm the Jolly Green Giant tonight!"

Gendry jumped up. He looked twice as tall and twice as broad as their visitor. He held out his hand.

"Put it there Bro! We could be brothers! Twins even – like that movie with Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny Devito!"

"Only if I can be Arnold" Tyrion drawled, holding out his hand.

Gendry leant down and whispered to Tyrion "May I pick you up?"

Tyrion shot back "On the condition that you don't throw me Mr Devito!"

Gendry grabbed his hand and hoisted him up so Tyrion was sitting on his shoulder.

"Come on! What are you waiting for?! Someone take a photo!" Gendry demanded.

Loras was the only one with a phone, so he reluctantly took a few shots, while Tyrion and Gendry posed in their green paint, both flexing their muscles and pulling faces for the camera.

Renly rolled his eyes.

"Once you two are finished mugging for the camera, we have some serious business to discuss."

Gendry carefully put Tyrion down on the spare seat. His pixie boots dangled in mid air.

"I haven't explained our plan to Gendry and Jon yet, so with your leave, I'll recap."

Tyrion nodded magnanimously.

"As you know, the Lannisters – present company excluded – have put Edric in the hospital, very nearly the morgue…"

"You must exclude Jaime from that statement" Loras interrupted. "He has been invaluable in our protection of Edric." Loras declared solemnly to Tyrion.

"Edric _and_ Myrcella" Tyrion added. "Don't forget my niece. She is also a victim here."

"Of course." Renly agreed. "And as a result of this, Tyrion has offered us the opportunity we have been waiting for – to get to Tywin Lannister."

"Myrcella and Edric are indeed one of my reasons, but I have other, more personal reasons for wishing my father dead…"

Gendry could empathise with that. Although there was a part of him that felt as if they were being used to do Tyrion's dirty work for him, the end result would be very satisfactory – for both sides.

Tyrion was rubbing his hands together with glee as he continued…

"And I am delighted that your methods, although somewhat unconventional, will be _untraceable. _It really is the prefect crime – if there is no body, there is no proof, nothing to incriminate us. If we all play our part, none of us can be linked to this _murder_."

It was the first time any of them had uttered the word out loud; the first admission that their plan was premeditated, vengeful _murder_.

Jon had killed someone before – it seemed like a life time ago and he didn't regret it. He was sure Loras had killed plenty – Renly perhaps – who knew? But when Jon had killed the Lannister hitman in Gendry's flat, it had been unintentional, and in defence of people he loved; kill or be killed. This was _entirely _different. Jon wasn't sure if the air conditioning had just cooled a few degrees, but he shivered.

"I know _our_…" Jon looked at Loras "…well I should say _your_, methods are…ahem…unconventional, but no body? How do we manage that?"

Loras returned Jon's gaze with calm, inscrutable golden eyes.

"We eat him." Loras said simply.

-o-

"Wake up! Come on, wake up!"

Loras was aware of someone talking to him, and shaking his shoulder, but he was so deeply asleep he thought it was part of his dream; a bad part.

"Please Loras."

He tried to turn over, away from the demanding voice, but the couch in his office wasn't wide enough for that.

"For fuck's sake Loras!"

Then quiet. Thank God, the angry voice had buggered off and he could go back to sleep.

Cold water hit his face and he bolted upright, snarling. As soon as he saw a shocked Jon, he took a deep breath and marshalled his thoughts – suppressing the wolf, hiding him again under the mask of humanity, but this close to the Full Moon it was always harder to rein in the wolf, once he had stirred.

"Morning." He tried to make the greeting sound matter-of-fact, as if he hadn't just unleashed his Werewolf on Jon.

"Christ you scared me! First I couldn't wake you and then…"

"I'm sorry, but I was in the middle of a dream." Jon didn't need to know it was a dream about biting and ripping through flesh and bone and killing and eating. Jon didn't need to know that now. He'd find out for himself soon enough.

"Yeah, I'm sorry too – sorry I had to wake you, but the shit has hit the fan."

"How?" Loras groaned, checking his watch. Christ, he'd been asleep for less than 2 hours, no wonder he had been so deep. He had stayed up until dawn, trying to tonight, making sure every potential threat had been considered and accounted for. There could be no margin for error – everyone had to be kept safe. So what was it this time?

"Gendry's found out Arya's with Griff."

"How?" Loras found himself groaning again.

Jon thrust a rolled up newspaper towards him.

It was the down-market tabloid that Gendry occasionally read, the one with the semi-naked women on page 3. Gendry claimed reading it reminded him of working in the garage. Loras flattened out the paper. There was a picture of Griff and Arya on the fucking front page. They were running and Griff had a hold of her hand. Her head was down, but there was no mistaking those legs and that Liza Minelli costume, As for Griff – he had a grin like the cat who got the cream.

The comment under the photograph read,

"After his last concert in the UK this summer, heart throb Griff, makes a dash for the after-show party with a new, mystery girlfriend. Thousands of hearts will be breaking this morning. Do you know who she is? Call this number if you can identify Griff's girl."

"Gendry's leaving _now_. I only persuaded him to wait for us by saying we wanted to help him. Come on Loras, we need to stop him from doing something stupid."

Loras grunted, rolling up and off the couch. Stopping Gendry doing something stupid – now that wasn't going to be easy.

-o-

"I can't believe you fucking _lied_ to me!" Gendry repeated for the umpteenth time. Jon was done apologising and Loras wouldn't. The conversation was pointless, but that didn't stop Gendry repeating himself.

He flicked his claws out, withdrew them, and then did it again.

"Don't you even think about using them on Griff" Jon warned.

Gendry didn't answer, but he kept the claws down.

"I _still_ can't believe you both lied to me! And your sister tricked me! What the fuck are we going to do about that?"

"I don't know." Loras spat. "_Nothing. _Let's see if we survive the night first."

"What if she's pregnant eh? Have you thought about that?"

"No I haven't" Loras growled, through gritted teeth "…because, right now, _she's_ not our priority and to be fucking honest, neither are you – Edric is. What do you expect me to do Gendry? Pull a fully formed damage limitation plan out of my arse?"

"I could have been away last night, if you hadn't lied to me…"

"Shut up Waters!" Loras finally snapped from the back seat of Gendry's Aston Martin. It was a mercy Jon had insisted on driving; otherwise Gendry would probably have run them all off the road by now.

"To keep my promise to Arya, I had to lie to you. How the fuck was I supposed to know Arya caught you shagging my sister!"

"Because she's your sister and she tricked me!" Gendry roared, making Loras' and Jon's ears ring. Gendry twisted around in his seat, so he could better rant at Loras "you are supposed to be my Pack and you _fucking lie to me_!"

"I promised her first and anyway…I like her better than I like you." Loras snarled back, any patience he had was now well and truly gone. He just wanted Gendry to shut the fuck up. He should either be sleeping or at Maester's Hospital now, getting things ready for tonight, not babysitting Gendry. He had spent most of the journey on the phone or e-mailing his staff, trying to oversee the preparations from the car, but it wasn't the same.

Neither Arya nor Griff were answering their phones. Jon had left messages for them both last night and this morning. Nothing. Loras had radioed the London unit still assigned to Arya's flat. She hadn't appeared last night or this morning. Gendry was apoplectic with rage, remorse and frustration when he heard that.

Only Jon knew where Griff lived. When they arrived at Griff's flat, Gendry was out of the car before Jon had even stopped the engine. With no subtlety, only sheer desperation, Gendry kicked the door in.

He was almost at the top of the stairs by the time Loras and Jon made it to the bottom.

"There's another wolf up there!" Loras hissed a warning to Jon as they took the stairs three at a time.

Jon didn't have time to think, only react; he had to get to the top of those stairs and to Gendry as quickly as possible. Gendry was frantically calling for Arya.

The warning growl from another wolf reverberated from the room at the top of the stairs. He saw Loras, in front of him, unsheathe his claws and heard Arya scream "Cheating Bastard!" at Gendry. He couldn't get to the top of the stairs quickly enough, and when he did, there was so much to take in. Gendry was bristling with aggression, ready to attack, Arya was wearing Griff's T-shirt and nothing else, face twisted with rage, yelling at Gendry. Griff, wearing not much more, looked stunned and in front of the two of them stood _his father._

Gendry didn't recognise him, was asking who the fuck he was, but Loras knew.

And his father seemed to know who Gendry was

"…_you're a Baratheon. Well, I'll not make the same mistake twice. You're wrong Baratheon if you think you can take her from me_."

Gendry sneered "Bring it on old man…" His father and Gendry were about to rip each other to shreds.

"_**NO!**_" Jon roared, striding into the middle of the room.

"_This is bullshit! _We're all supposed to be on the same fucking side!" he ranted at them all. Everyone was so stunned by Jon's sudden intervention that they stood and listened - even Gendry.

"_Gendry – she's safe!_ You'll get your chance to talk, but you can't make her! Rhaegar isn't the only one who'll stop you if you try!" Jon threatened. The steely determination in his voice and eyes, left Gendry in no doubt that he meant what he said.

"_And you – Rhaegar_. We need your help tonight. We've got a brother who is dying and we need an Alpha to bite him. Can you do that for us and will that work?"

Rhaegar regarded Jon coolly. "It'll work, as long as he's got a bit of life left in him. I've done it before, but why should I?" he challenged.

"Ever heard of Tywin Lannister?"

Rhaegar's demeanour changed instantly.

"Yes!" he snarled; the disgust with which he spat out that one word, conveying to the rest of them that he bore the same hatred towards the Lannister they did.

"Tywin is responsible for the attack on our brother and we will have our revenge tonight."

Jon held out his hand to his father. "Will you join us tonight?"

Rhaegar hesitated. "Who are you to ask me that? You are no wolf."

"I am Lyanna Stark's son and you are my father."

Rhaegar took Jon's hand, as if in a trance.

"If that's true…"

"It is true." Jon vowed. Rhaegar studied Jon intently.

"…then I'll help you. I came here to pass Lyanna's gift onto one son and I find she has gifted me with another."

Rhaegar's eyes were shining as he and Jon embraced.

"Then it's agreed. We leave now." Loras declared. "And you Griff?" he wondered.

Griff looked from Jon to Rhaegar to Arya and shook his head.

"There's plenty of time son." Rhaegar promised. "This isn't the way I wanted to tell you."

"Please be careful." Griff pleaded with his father. "Gendry – you'll take care of my father and Jon won't you?"

Gendry grunted a reluctant affirmation.

Jon led the way back down the stairs, with Rhaegar following close behind.

"Arya, I'm sorry. It wasn't what you think…" Gendry started to explain, trying not to look at Griff and wishing to God he couldn't smell the pungent proof that they'd made love.

"He was set up by my sister" Loras interrupted. "I had no idea…and I'm sorry Arya."

"Yeah, well thanks for nothing Loras. You promised me!" Arya spat.

Loras gritted his teeth and set off for the stairs. Then he stopped and turned back to Arya. "If you ever intend to disappear again, I suggest you avoid the Paparazzi." He marched down the stairs, without waiting for a response.

Gendry was left alone with Arya and Griff. He closed his eyes and swallowed his pride, knowing this could be his last chance.

"All I can say Arya is that I love you more than I ever imagined I could. I would never do anything deliberately to hurt you. I hope you can forgive me like I forgive you."

It was Griff who answered - "_Forgive her for what? You sanctimonious bastard!_"

Arya grabbed Griff's arm, pulling him back, towards her.

That was all Gendry needed to see. He fled down the stairs after his Pack.

**In two weeks time…The Night is Dark and Full of Terrors.**


	32. 32 - The night is dark & full of terrors

**Chapter 32**

**The Night is Dark and Full of Terrors**

**My Friday just wasn't the same without you guys and Fanfic. No idea how I'm going to cope when this is done. Fridays will never be the same again. In the meantime, here's the penultimate chapter. …**

_**Moonrise/Sunset 20.41 **_

He was gone and shouldn't she feel jubilant? Victorious? He knew she'd fucked Griff, just like he'd fucked Margaery. That was what she wanted wasn't it? That was why she had phoned Griff in the first place. So why did she feel so God awful?

Because Loras wouldn't lie. She didn't trust Gendry – lying, cheating bastard that he was, but Loras…Loras had said Gendry had been tricked.

Was that possible? Did Margaery want to be Lady Baratheon and Mistress of Storm's End badly enough to cheat and to lie to get it? How did Margaery imagine that would get her what she wanted? _If_ she had tricked Gendry - and to Arya that was still a big _if_, Margaery must have known she'd be found out eventually, so why do it?

Before she had even asked herself the question, Arya knew why – because a baby would give Margaery an unbreakable hold over Gendry. So he didn't love her…but would he father a bastard child? Could Gendry let his son or daughter grow up the way that he and Jon had? Even if Margaery _had_ tricked him, would Gendry make her Lady Baratheon for the sake of their child? Would Gendry do it in order to give his child everything Gendry didn't have; money, a title and most importantly a father? Where would that leave Arya? She felt sick to the pit of her stomach.

-o-

Gendry almost fell down the stairs, he took them so fast. He manoeuvred past the door he'd destroyed half an hour before and out into the fresh air – away from that stink, that proof that Griff had taken what was his, that Arya had fucked the blue haired cunt. Even admitting it to himself, made him retch.

Loras was on the driver's side of the Aston Martin, leaning against the door, dragging on a cigarette he'd produced from God knows where, while Jon and Rhaegar were deep in conversation on the other side of the car.

Gendry had only moments to take in the scene before he vomited over the hood of his car. As his stomach heaved up its contents (only last night's booze and bile), he heard Rhaegar, his disgust obvious; ask Loras if 'the Baratheon' was a first timer?

Loras must have confirmed, as Rhaegar snorted "Christ! Just what we don't need!" then contemptuously addressing Gendry, still bent double over his car; "Why don't you sit this one out…_virgin_?"

Gendry straightened up, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, while glaring at Rhaegar "because Edric's my brother and I'll see this finished!"

Rhaegar, the Alpha Wolf shrugged his shoulders, sneering, "Suit yourself, but I'm not acting as your nursemaid."

Loras interrupted "Cut him some slack – surely you must remember your first time?"

Then, turning to Gendry, Loras explained "The first time's a bitch, but it's like anything else; sex, riding a bike, killing…the more you do it, the better you get at it. And don't bother trying to eat anything - that won't help. There's only one thing will cure the kind of hunger you have now."

Loras took another drag of his cigarette and exhaled twin plumes of smoke through his nostrils, "So Rhaegar, how long you been one? 27 years?"

Rhaegar looked surprised, but grudgingly acknowledged Loras was correct, adding "How'd you know?"

Loras smiled at Jon, "Your son is twenty six and I'm making an educated guess that Lyanna bit you when she found out she was pregnant…in the hope that the two of you would live happily ever after by the light of the silvery moon." He drawled sarcastically.

Rhaegar snarled and his fists clenched. "You assume too much – she never told me she was pregnant."

"But let me guess…you weren't too happy about being 'cursed' because she never asked your permission first?"

"It's fair to say I wasn't happy about what she did to me…it took me years to think of it as anything other than a curse" he turned to Jon, "… but son, I want you to know that I loved her more than I ever loved any other woman, but at the time, I was livid. We fought. She went back to _that Baratheon _and by the time I realised what a gift she'd given me it was too late."

Jon, Gendry and Loras all exchanged disbelieving glances. It was left to Jon to tell his father what really happened.

"She went back to Winterfell, but not to Robert. Ned Stark raised me as his bastard son, much to the disgust of Lady Catelyn, but Lyanna…." Jon broke off, his voice cracking, unable to continue.

"…was attacked by my father, _that Baratheon_, who had also been bitten by Lyanna. She was 9 months pregnant with your son. He survived. She didn't." Gendry finished for Jon.

Rhaegar had to put a hand on the Aston Martin's roof to steady himself.

"She died…all those years ago?"

Rhaegar clutched at Jon. "You never even knew your mother? Oh God…that bastard Robert came to me in France, months after she left, told me they were getting married, that she's chosen him…never mentioned anything about her being pregnant or staying at Winterfell…and _that Baratheon bastard _killed her?!" he spat. He turned away from Jon, towards Gendry and again, the eyes flashed orange and the claws came out. "At least Arya and my son have the chance Lyanna and I didn't get."

Gendry looked like he was ready to kill Rhaegar.

For the second time that afternoon, Jon had to step in between his father and his best mate.

"Gendry might be a Baratheon, but it had nothing to do with him! He was brought up by his mother. He didn't even know who his father was until a few weeks ago and almost immediately his father bit him."

"And I didn't ask for it either!" Gendry growled.

Rhaegar looked stunned "So Robert Baratheon is still alive?" It was obvious Rhaegar was relishing the prospect of killing him.

"No. He died last Full Moon." Gendry didn't feel the need to elaborate further. Rhaegar looked extremely disappointed.

"This all happened nearly 30 years ago. How do you know so much about it?"

Jon and Gendry looked to Loras who languidly stubbed his cigarette out, grinding it under the heel of his boot.

"Information is my business Rhaegar. We needed a Baratheon heir and in the process we also found a Targaryen." He smiled ruefully at Jon "and you couldn't have a better man as your son."

Gendry groaned and rolled his eyes, wondering if he might vomit again if Loras kept this up.

Jon grinned at the compliment. "Loras suspected and all the pieces of the jigsaw seemed to fit, but we did a DNA test just to confirm it."

"On me?" Rhaegar gasped; horrified that someone could have obtained his DNA without his knowledge or consent.

Again Jon, Gendry and Loras exchanged awkward glances.

"Err…no. On Daenerys." Jon admitted.

Rhaegar sagged with relief.

"God, I haven't seen her in years. I know Aegon keeps in touch…"

"Griff." Jon explained to a puzzled Loras.

"Yeah…and there's something I need to tell you about…" Jon started to say to his father.

"Later!" Loras snapped. "After the Full Moon. We need to get this shit done first." He checked his watch. "We've only got 5 hours until moonrise. We've wasted enough time here. The keys Jon please."

Jon threw the keys to Loras and in a few more minutes they were off.

Gendry took a last look up at the window as Loras reversed the Aston Martin. He was leaving the woman he loved with fucking Griff. Margaery Tyrell was going to pay for this…

-o-

"You didn't know – did you?"

Griff, or Aegon as she had to keep reminding herself, sat down heavily opposite her, looking bewildered.

"No idea…but now, with hindsight, it all makes sense; why he stopped touring, the regularly, monthly absences. The clues were there. I thought he was having an affair…who would have thought this? Jesus."

"And about Jon?"

At least the mention of _their _brother brought a slight smile to Aegon's face.

"You know, I used to call him 'brother'? At least that makes some kind of sense to me. I knew there was something there, something deeper between us – you know what I mean?"

Did she know? Arya didn't know what to think anymore. Loras always said he didn't believe in 'coincidence'. So what was it then? Fate? Destiny? That seemed somehow worse. Was everything already mapped out for them? She remembered Harrenhal and wondered what Jaqen would say. A shiver ran up her spine.

"Fuck, I need a cigarette."

Aegon got up and started hunting for some fags. She watched him rifle through jacket pockets, then in a drawer, cursing under his breath when he couldn't find what he was looking for.

"You never smoked last night." She'd only just realised.

"Yeah. I quit. You said you didn't like it, so I quit…but man, I need a cigarette now."

He finally padded off into the kitchen and came back with a crumpled packed of Marlboro lights.

"It's like smoking fresh air, but any port in a storm…"

He lit his fag, inhaled deeply and a satisfied grin spread across his face.

"Werewolves eh?" he murmured as he exhaled, blowing the smoke above their heads, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Yeah, Werewolves" Arya agreed. It didn't shock her anymore. She felt numb to everything. "Now you know, will you become one? That was what your dad was here for wasn't it? To give you the bite tonight?"

"Fuck! I don't know! How can I tour, if every month I'm going to turn into a Goddamn monster. Fuck! Did you see their eyes Arya? And those talons…"

Arya had seen it all. If she closed her eyes, she could still see Gendry, but it wasn't orange Werewolf eyes she saw – it was haunted, pale blue eyes, devastated by the realisation she'd left him.

"They're not monsters." She almost said '_we're_ not monsters'. "There's much more to it than that; strength, cunning, hyped up senses, speed, agility and Gendry keeps telling me the sex is amazing." As soon as it was out of her mouth, she cursed herself. _What did you say that for? Stupid bitch!_

Aegon's top lip curled into a sneer, before he recovered himself, a satisfied smile playing across his lips.

"But you're with me now darlin' and what we did last night was pretty amazing too, wasn't it?"

He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. She looked down at his long, slim, fingers and realised his hands were just like Jon's.

"No it wasn't."

He pulled his hand away as if she had burned him. He looked horrified, disbelieving, hurt.

"I didn't even come Aegon."

"But I assumed you did when I did…you never said…" he stammered defensively, and then regaining some of his cool, he pouted "I've never had any complaints before."

She groaned. There was nothing to be gained by lying and hopefully some other woman might benefit from her honesty.

"How many women have there been Griff?...I mean Aegon…and I don't mean girls, I mean _women_."

For the first time, Arya realised that she wasn't a girl anymore. Girls hadn't loved and lost like she had, or seen what she had seen. She was a woman and Aegon was still a boy.

For a few more moments, he sat, nervously smoking his cigarette, not looking directly at her. He looked like a schoolboy who'd just been told he'd failed his exams. Then he clenched his jaw in the same determined way Jon did and turned those magic, violet eyes back to her.

"Ok…so teach me Arya…show me what you like. We've got the rest of our lives to get it right."

The million dollar, rock star smile that made all the teenage girls cream their pants was back, his eyes twinkling with mischief. It would be so easy to say yes. She had no doubt he'd be an excellent pupil and a fast learner. She could run away with him and try to forget, but could she ran far and fast enough to forget the haunted look on Gendry's face?

She smiled weakly across at Aegon.

"I can't…I think I'm still in love with Gendry."

Aegon reached across the table and gripped her hand tightly.

"But I heard him admit he cheated on you! He always was a stupid bastard. What can he give you that I can't? I've got money, I can buy you a bigger ring, a Goddamn castle someday if that's what you really want…but I don't think you care about all that stuff Arya. I want us to _live_ – have the time of our lives. We're only twenty for Chrissakes! You've seen what I do every night; if I can make 10,000 people love me, I can make you love me too." He ran one, pale, strong thumb over her knuckles. "I bet he wants to tie you down, tell you what to do, keep you barefoot and pregnant so you won't leave him. I'll give you freedom, the open road, _I can give you the world Arya!_…_you and me - it's_ _destiny_. _I can feel it_ _and I don't believe you can't._"

He stared at her across the table and she could see real anguish in his lilac eyes, as if the thought of them not being together was agony for him.

"My dad let Lyanna go and I won't make the same mistake he did. If your Aunt had stayed with him, she might still be alive today."

He was right. She knew he was right, but she had to cling onto the fact that she wasn't Lyanna and Gendry wasn't Robert.

Aegon took her other hand in his and held them both. The silence between them grew, lengthened, became uncomfortable. She didn't know what to say, because she didn't know what she wanted. Yes – Gendry wanted them to get married, have kids, but wasn't that what she had wanted too only yesterday?

"At least give me America" Aegon pleaded. "4 weeks and if you still feel the same, if I can't make you forget The Bull, then I'll have to accept it…but we could have it all Arya - you and me. Whatever you want, whatever it takes, I'm there. Come on Arya – 4 weeks."

"Will you just run me home please Aegon?"

He gave a heartfelt groan, as if she had physically wounded him. He gripped her hands tighter, as if refusing to let her go.

"Will you at least think about it? I leave on Monday, 2pm Heathrow. First Class all the way. I'll send a car. Come on Arya…say you will."

She heard herself say "I'll think about it." She just wanted out, wanted home, needed time to think.

His face brightened immediately and she felt even worse for giving him hope.

"Sure you don't want to start teaching me now?" he grinned cheekily, like the gorgeous, naughty boy he was. She couldn't help but sigh and reluctantly smile back.

"Nice try, but no. I want to go home."

Her suitcase had never even made it out of the Ferrari. Once they were in the car, she hunted through the tapes in the glove box again, needing to listen to the mix tape for L.

"My father made it for Lyanna didn't he?" Aegon asked, as if reading her mind. "He made it for her and she never got to hear it. Maybe things would have been different if she had. Rewind it and play side 1 from the beginning and you'll see what I mean."

Arya did what he suggested and after the static hiss, a lone, deep voice (was it Rhaegar?) started singing softly, accompanied only by a guitar…

_A gypsy wind is blowing warm tonight  
The sky is starlit and the time is right  
And still you're tellin' me you have to go  
Before you leave there's something you should know  
Yeah something you should know babe_

I've seen you smiling in the summer sun  
I've seen your long hair flying when you run 

Arya could only think of Lyanna as her father had described her, riding her horse, leaping the fences as she raced Robert's Porsche across the lawns of Winterfell. She had been so young and full of life. That must have been the way Rhaegar saw her too. Aegon, joined in, singing in perfect harmony with the tape.

_I've made my mind up that it's meant to be  
Someday lady you'll accomp'ny me  
Out where the rivers meet the sounding sea  
You're high above me now, you're wild and free, ah but  
Someday lady you'll accomp'ny me_

Yesterday she'd been so happy; so happy for Jon and Danni and so happy for herself. She'd wanted Gendry's child and suddenly everything seemed so right – and just as suddenly everything had been ripped apart.

_Some people say that love's a losin' game  
You start with fire but you lose the flame  
The ashes smoulder but the warmth's soon gone  
You end up cold and lonely on your own_

What the hell was she going to do? Run away? Try and forget them both?

_I'll take my chances babe I'II risk it all  
I'll win your love or I'II take the fall  
I've made my mind up girl it's meant to be  
Someday lady you'll accomp'ny me_

It's written down some where, it's got to be  
You're high above me flyin' wild and free  
Oh but someday lady you'll accomp'ny me  
Out where the rivers meet the sounding sea  
I feel it in my soul, it's meant to be  
Someday lady you'll accomp'ny me 

Aegon squeezed her knee gently as he finished singing to her, concern etched on his face.

"You want me to pull over?"

She shook her head. "No. Just take me home."

If she didn't get away from him now, she might agree to go to America with him and she didn't know if that's what she wanted. Oh…she didn't know who to believe or what to think anymore.

"Can I keep the tape?"

"Sure – I want you to have it. Will you think of me when you listen to that song?"

How could she not?

When they reached her flat, he cut the engine and immediately got out of the car. She was still ejecting the tape, aware of Baratheon security parked across the road, watching. She tried not to look their way. Aegon opened her door and held out his hand to her.

She took it rather reluctantly and as soon as she was standing, he pulled her into his arms. She half heartedly tried to resist. He was just making this harder for her. She felt rigid, uncomfortable, unwilling against him. He tried to kiss her, but she turned her head away.

"Aegon…" she started to say, but he anticipated her thoughts again.

"Ok, ok, too much pressure. I get it. You're killing me Arya, but I'll wait. Promise me you'll be in touch? Call me anytime. Call me in 5 minutes and I'll come back. Call me in 10 minutes…tonight, whenever. I came for you at Storm's End and I'll come for you again. Anytime. I'm here for you – you know that don't you?"

"I know."

"Don't make the same mistake Lyanna did. Listen to the tape and call me. Ok?"

"Ok."

"Soon."

"Aegon don't…"

"I'm sorry, I'm just…I'm just…you're killing me Arya. You'll call me, right?"

"Ok."

She pulled away, he caught her fingertips.

"I could come up."

"I'll call you, Aegon."

She had to get away. She freed her hand, picked up her suitcase and ran the half dozen steps to her door, fumbling for her key. She knew he was watching her, waiting for her to turn around, but she didn't and closed the door behind her as fast as she could.

-o-

Renly met them at the entrance to the hospital. As usual, he looked immaculately groomed and well dressed, in stark contrast to Gendry and Loras who looked dishevelled, shattered.

Jon introduced Renly to his father, along with a brief summary of the afternoon's events. Renly, as ever, was the perfect gentleman, a raised eyebrow the only indication of his surprise at the Targaryen Werewolf's presence, but there was no offer to shake hands - the presence of an Alpha was certainly not to Renly's liking.

"Before we go to see Edric, I want you all to see this."

Loras led them all to a different, ground floor area of the hospital, one that was eerily quiet. An opaque, black, plastic tunnel had been erected in the corridor, almost filling it, only leaving enough space at the side for a man to walk past.

"Rhaegar's assistance, although very welcome…" Loras seemed to have specifically aimed that comment to Renly, "…has necessitated a slight change of plan. As all three of us aren't needed to bite Edric now, we can transform elsewhere. One Wolf in a hospital is less conspicuous than four. Jon, you'll stay with your father, making sure he exits the hospital through this tunnel, without coming into contact with anyone else. We all rendezvous at moonrise plus approximately 2 hours, before we begin the mission proper – to bring down Tywin Lannister. Agreed?"

Four men gave their assent.

"How did you get on with Delena and Myrcella Renly? I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you with them." Loras said pointedly, giving Gendry a dark look. He obviously thought it was Gendry's fault they were so far behind schedule.

"Brienne and I, between us, managed to persuade Edric's mother to sign the consent form for the surgery. Your plan to have one of the Doctors tell Myrcella and Delena that they wanted to try a last ditch operation tonight worked. Edric will be brought down here at 20.00 hours. They think he's going into the Operating Theatre, but he'll be left alone, so Rhaegar can…do what needs to be done. Brienne knows to keep his mother away from him for as long as possible. They've been told it's a long and risky process – which it is. We can only hope that it works. The first few hours after the bite aren't pretty at the best of times and with Edric…well we just don't know."

Rhaegar added "I'll bite him somewhere that's easily hidden, but if he's as ill as you say he is…" Rhaegar trailed off, not sounding very hopeful.

"We have no other options and we have the best medical team to get him through the transition."

"I didn't know _others_ would be involved?! You should hide him away – so no-one knows what he might become!" Rhaegar snarled.

"Don't you worry about my team!" Loras snapped back "Renly and I handpicked them all and they call be trusted implicitly."

"You'd better be right!" Rhaegar growled menacingly. "I have been _very_ careful for the last 27 years to make sure no-one knows what I've become – not even Aegon. And I won't have it made common knowledge now. In the past I've killed the witnesses, to leave no trail...no-one to talk."

"That won't be necessary tonight." Loras said through gritted teeth.

Renly jumped to his partner's defence "We've also being doing this for years Rhaegar and I can assure you Loras' processes are damn near perfect. We've planned this meticulously and we'll get the job done – with or without you!"

The tension in the corridor was palpable. Too many Alpha males, too near the Full Moon.

Once again Jon had to step in.

"Let's save our energy for Tywin Lannister – shall we? Saving Edric and killing a Lannister, that's all that matters tonight. "

"The opportunity of killing a Lannister is what's keeping me here" Rhaegar snarled. "I also want revenge. Jaime Lannister killed my father and I want to kill his."

Fuck. The same Jaime Lannister who was waiting for them upstairs.

There was a shocked pause in the conversation, before Loras spoke, with as much calm authority as ever "I have a few more details to attend to. While we visit Edric, why don't you get something to eat Jon? It'll be your last chance for a few days. Take your father; there are a few decent restaurants in the area. You two should have some time together while we don't need you."

Jon smoothly agreed, all too aware he had to get his father away from a potentially disastrous meeting with Jamie Lannister. Loras had trained his protégé well.

"I'm sure I don't have to remind you to be here at sunset. What do you think Rhaegar? Twenty Hundred hours give you enough time?"

"Plenty." Rhaegar smirked.

"We won't see each other again until we meet at the rendezvous. Jon, you know the plan. Any last questions?"

Jon hadn't.

"Well, as we obviously won't be able to...talk…next time we meet. I will wish you good luck Gentlemen."

In a rather bizarrely old fashioned ritual, Rhaegar and Jon shook hands with the other three. Gendry felt like a World War Two fighter pilot taking leave of his comrades before a potentially lethal mission. Such was the weight of expectation he felt oppressing him, he even managed to resist the urge to squeeze Rhaegar's hand until the bones cracked.

-o-

Arya showered, changed, checked her e-mails and texts. Nothing from Gendry and still 3 and a half hours to go. Waves of fear, regret, worry and boredom seemed to be taking turns to wash over her. Maybe she should have stayed with Aegon a while longer to kill some time, but that would have only delayed the inevitable and given him fresh hope.

She turned the cassette tape Rhaegar had made for Lyanna over in her hands. She didn't have a tape player and she'd checked online to see if she could buy one right now. Today. There wasn't a high street store she could just walk into and pick one up. She had the tape she wanted, needed, to listen to, but no way of listening to it. She knew where she could go. She knew someone who had a tape deck in his office, but the thought of seeing Jaqen when she was feeling so confused and vulnerable wasn't appealing.

She decided to go for a run. The two, unfamiliar close protection officers jumped out of their waiting car when she appeared at the entrance to her flat, ready to go.

"Umm, Miss Stark, we have orders not to let you out of our sight."

"Well you'll need to come with me then. I'm going for a run."

They exchanged anxious looks, then hurried, muttered words.

"You'll need to wait while we radio in for instructions." The older one said.

They were obviously new and uncertain. While one leant into the car to communicate with his superiors over the car radio, Arya asked the other why she'd never seen him before.

"Uh, we're usually tech support, but as priority is…uh…elsewhere tonight, we've been allowed out." He gave a nervous laugh and a forced smile.

They waited for the older one to finish his conversation.

"Umm…can I ask if that was Griff from Fire & Blood who dropped you off earlier?"

Arya groaned a reluctant "yeah."

Younger guy's face lit up, "I knew it! He is so fucking cool and man…that car! You are so lucky!" he gushed, then suddenly realising he had overstepped the boundaries of his employment, he immediately turned beetroot and started stammering an apology.

"Don't worry, even Loras liked the car." Arya confided "…and you're right, he is so cool." _Too fucking cool for Arya Horseface from Winterfell?_

The older one came back over.

"None of the Rainbow Guard is available. Control just told us to 'use our initiative'."

Arya had to suppress a smile. It was easy to forget that, to them, she wasn't little Arya Horseface, but Lord Baratheon's fiancé (as far as they knew) and the reason they were here.

"Well it looks like you're getting some fresh air and exercise boys!"

They looked at each other nervously, before younger guy shrugged and removed his gun from the holster under his arm, shoving it in his pocket as quickly as possible, trying (and failing) to make that look normal, like the kind of thing you did in a residential street every day. Then he removed his jacket and holster and handed them to his colleague.

The younger guy was called 'Dave' and he nervously rolled up his sleeves while Arya did some pre-run stretches.

"Ready?" He nodded and swallowed apprehensively. He wasn't that much older than she was and about the same height. He had an average build, but she could tell his waist was thicker than it should have been for a Baratheon Security operative. It seemed tech guys weren't subject to the same, stringent, fitness requirements Loras usual demanded of his staff. Arya wondered how useful Dave would be IF anything happened. She only hoped he had the safety on that gun and wasn't about to shoot himself in the groin by accident. She thought again of Jaqen and how he hadn't needed a gun when they had been attacked. She had never even thanked him for saving her life. She hoped that today, just as Baratheon attention was focused elsewhere, so was the Lannister's.

She set off at her usual pace and was stupidly pleased with herself to find Dave was panting by the time they reached the end of the road.

"Why don't we head to the park and you can keep an eye on me from a bench?"

"No (pant) can do Miss Stark (pant). We've got orders not to let you out of our sight (pant)"

"I'll run around in circles" she laughed, feeling herself relax, for the first time in 24 hours.

Poor Dave had to gulp for air as he stammered, "that won't be necessary Miss Stark"

By the time they had run down a few more streets Dave had managed to pant that the park might be a good idea after all.

Going to the park took them past The Gallery of Black and White.

Arya made sure they crossed to the other side of the road well before they reached the shop front. She tried not to look, but couldn't help noticing the lights were on and the window displayed had changed. The 'black' window was now stormy seascapes of greys and dark blues, while the 'white' window was filled with paintings of fluffy white clouds and pale, sunny beaches. She had really loved working there and Jaqen had been an excellent teacher; so calm and thoughtful - until that night.

What he had shown her, when he nearly destroyed Gregor Clegane and then in Harrenhal had shocked and terrified her, but without him, where would she be now? She didn't want to see him again, but she should have thanked him for saving her life. He also had that tape deck she needed in his office. She still had her keys and perhaps she could leave him a thank you note or something and listen to that tape at the same time.

"What time is it Dave?"

"5.32 Miss Stark. (pant)."

Another hour and the Gallery would close. A plan began to form in her head, but first she needed to run until she was exhausted and until she was too tired to think about Gendry or Aegon and what was going on at Maester's Hospital.

-o-

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…Fuck."

"We all get it. You don't need to keep repeating yourself" Loras said mildly to Renly as they rode up to Edric's floor in the Hospital lift.

"How close was that? Did you know about Jamie Lannister killing Rhaegar's father?" Renly demanded.

"Renly, I never even knew about Rhaegar until a few hours ago." Loras sighed, in a tired, exasperated way, as if he was explaining something to a small child.

"This is what happens when we change the plan at the last minute." Renly muttered.

"It's better for Edric. Jon too. One bite instead of three."

Renly and Gendry knew Loras was right, although the presence of another Alpha was hard to tolerate. Gendry found Rhaegar even harder to stomach than Stannis, but no doubt the Arya and Griff situation had something to do with that. Even thinking about them together made him want to retch.

"So what do we do about Jamie?" Gendry asked.

"Keep him the hell away from Rhaegar." Loras stated matter-of-factly.

"But…" Gendry started to ask.

"Look…" Loras explained in that exasperated tone he had just used with Renly, "Jaime served his Country, same as I did. All soldiers have done things for the greater good of their Country that they wouldn't have chosen to do, but that's the point – we have no choice. We're the ones who do what _needs_ to be done. I'm not going to judge him and you shouldn't either…at least not yet."

When the lift doors opened, the object of their conversation was sitting, exactly as they had last seen him, outside Edric's hospital room, cradling Tyrion's Tazer gun. You had to admire the Lannister's stamina and commitment. With four days stubble, he looked even worse than Loras.

"Jaime!" Renly greeted the Lannister like a long lost friend.

Jaime looked at the three of them with tired, blood shot eyes, suspicious already.

"Where's Brienne?" Renly wondered.

Right on cue, Brienne walked out of the room opposite Jaime. She looked as bad as he did – but without the stubble.

"Good afternoon Renly." She greeted her boss, her face lighting up instantly.

"We're going to spend some time with Edric, before tonight's operation, in case…you know." The implication that they wanted to spend time with him, in case he didn't make it, hung in the air between them.

"He's going downhill rapidly. Big change since you were last here." Jaime sighed wearily.

"We're going to stay. You two have done so much already. We really can't thank you enough, but we can take it from here. You two deserve a break."

Jaime pursed his lips, before slowly addressing Renly in particular. "I think we'll stay to the end now."

"I think it's a time for family now Jaime. I'm sorry." Renly said gently. He really was a master at manipulating people to suit his own ends. "Go to a hotel. I've an account at The Dorchester, take a suite, book the whole bloody hotel if you want. You'll not be too far away and you can unwind, get some sleep. We'll keep you posted."

"I would love to have a bath." Brienne sighed wistfully.

"What do you say Jaime?" Renly asked encouragingly.

Jaime looked up at Brienne. "What do you think dear? Bath for two?"

Despite their obvious exhaustion, and the audience of three watching them, Brienne and Jaime smiled shyly at each other.

"Sure. Why not?" she giggled. Renly looked rather shocked by the previously unheard sound of Brienne giggling.

"Well, I can only thank you both again…on behalf of the whole Baratheon family."

Renly looked really shocked when Brienne flung her arms around his neck and enveloped him in a bear hug. Of course Gendry and Loras heard what she whispered in his ear "I've got a bad feeling about tonight. I don't know what you're up to too Renly, but you take care. You'd better come back to me."

She held him just a little too long.

**To be continued… **

**(Big sigh) I know. I didn't intend to leave it there. I certainly won't miss the ridiculous Friday deadlines I set myself. I've got most of the rest of the rest of the night written, but have run out of time. I MIGHT give you guys a mid week treat, depending on how the rest of my weekend goes. Give me some nice reviews and I might be more inclined to find the time to finish this chapter over the weekend. There's still one more chapter to go after this…**


	33. The night is dark & full of terrors (2)

**Chapter 33 **

**The Night is Dark and Full of Terrors (part 2)**

**Sorry there was no mid week chapter, but I can't begin to tell you how **_**hard**_** this was to write. I can only hope I've done my wolves justice…**

**3 hours until Moonrise.**

Jaime Lannister was no liar. Edric's condition had deteriorated considerably since they had last seen him.

Gendry could smell his brother from the corridor. The stench took him right back to his father's death, only this time it was worse; worse because he hadn't given a damn if his father died and worse still because his Wolf senses now confirmed and magnified the awful certainty that Edric's life was slipping away. It was in the smell, the irregular shallow, gasped breaths and the too slow, too weak pulse. Gendry hadn't realised before that he could sense _life_ in all its erratic magnificence. Here now was its end - the dreadful final surrender of God's precious gift.

Loras and Renly were aware of it too. He could see it in the way Loras' shoulders dropped, in the way Renly's jaw clenched. He looked down at his hand, trembling; another manifestation of his impending change. 3 hours now. He clenched his fist, deliberately extending his claws so they pierced the skin of his palm, drawing blood. The sudden pain brought him clarity, brought into sharp focus why he was here – what he needed to do. Tonight was for Edric and nothing else mattered.

Renly was talking to Myrcella and Delena. His uncle's soothing platitudes and practiced lies washed over Gendry, but there was no denying their effectiveness; the old woman and the exhausted girl were packing their belongings. Renly had a car waiting to take them to a hotel where they could get some sleep, 'freshen up for when Edric wakes up after his long operation' Renly said.

Gendry had to avert his eyes as Edric's mother took her leave of her son, finger tips unwilling to let him go until the very last moment; her impotent rage against the circumstances and her fear for her son etched in every line on her face and every movement she made. Gendry should have kept him safe. This was his fault and he promised himself that Edric would be avenged tonight - no matter what the cost.

Delena never looked at him as she struggled past with her pathetic bundle of possessions; a mother's unconditional love for her son wordlessly communicated by the strands of her son's black hair wrapped around the bristles of the hair brush, the half used packet of wet wipes, The Bible sticking out of her bag. Gendry thought of his own mother and how she had never lived to see what he had become.

He caught Delena's too thin arm. For a second he thought she was going to struggle away without acknowledging him, without hearing what he had to say, but she stopped and turned her pale, desperate, accusing eyes to him.

"I'm sorry. We'll do our best." He vowed.

She shook his hand off her arm and left the room without a word.

Gendry was watching the door close behind Delena when Myrcella flung her arms around his neck. She was warm and smelled wonderfully of _life_. He couldn't help thinking of his Arya as he hugged Myrcella back, relishing the feel and the sound of a warm, beating heart.

"I know you love him too. This wasn't your fault Gendry and I know the Doctors will do their best." Myrcella whispered softly against his neck.

Gendry couldn't answer for the lump in his throat, but he hugged her back and nodded. She smiled up at him, with innocent, hopeful eyes and he managed a tight smile in return, before she was gone too. He was left in the roof with his wolf brothers Renly and Loras and his blood brother Edric.

"More lies…" he muttered to Renly once the women were gone and the door safely closed behind them.

"But necessary." Renly said firmly. "The means justify the end."

Gendry moved closer to the bed and took his brother's hand. He didn't need the monitors with their incessant beeps, print outs and charts to tell him his brother hadn't long to live. Edric's face was already a wax death mask and his hand was too cold, too clammy.

"Christ this had better work!" Gendry swore vehemently.

"It's all we've got and Rhaegar says he's done it before…" Loras trailed off. None of them knew, so there was little point in discussing the Alpha Wolf's bite further. Failure was too awful to contemplate.

Something had been bothering Gendry about their plan for tonight and Jaime Lannister agreeing to leave had now crystallised his concern. Gendry hadn't been party to Renly's discussions with Tyrion and he wished now he'd taken more of an interest in the details.

"Why is Tyrion helping us tonight Renly? How come he's handing Tywin to us on a plate and Jaime doesn't seem to know?"

Renly sat down and took Edric's other hand before answering. Gendry supposed his uncle must be feeling the same way he was. No-one could doubt Renly loved his family and Edric was his nephew – same as Gendry.

"It's a long story. Would you mind filling him in Loras?" Renly sighed as he gazed regretfully at Edric and stroked his hand.

Loras stood at the end of the bed, hands in his pockets, took a deep breath and began…

"It's all down to you Gendry."

What the hell did he have to do with it? Apparently he was about to find out...

"Your…uh…_tryst_ with Cersi was the catalyst that delivered Tywin to us. It made the two Lannister boys…let's say…become a little more open with each other, share a few home truths."

Gendry still had no idea what Loras was talking about. He just knew he didn't like being reminded of having Cersi Lannister's mouth around his cock. At least he wouldn't have to confess _that _to Arya anymore, he though ruefully.

"Yeah, well I'm glad you think some good came of it, because everything just seems to have gone to hell for me since then."

Loras arched one blonde, movie star eyebrow.

"I'm surprised you think that way. I know Jon thanked you for what you did, but perhaps I haven't impressed upon you how important it was …for us all. Believe me, those photos would have come back to haunt you and Jon, Arya and Daenerys in the future. You did what you had to do. Not only did you demonstrate your commitment to our Pack, but you set in motion the fall of Tywin Lannister, which could change _everything_ for us all."

Renly interrupted, "You haven't been around long enough to know how much Tywin Lannister and his minions – Littlefinger, Pycelle, Gregor Clegane, the Kettleblacks, and the Freys amongst others have harried us. They've been a thorn in our side for twenty odd years – ever since Robert made a deal with that devil Tywin in the first place."

"Wait a minute…go back." Gendry spluttered "You mentioned the Freys. Robb Stark is marrying one of them in three weeks. I'm supposed to be Best Man - remember?" Gendry had no idea the Freys were involved with the Lannisters.

Loras snorted. "The Freys launder Tywin's dirty money for him through their business accounts in Switzerland and Russia. They also do a nice little sideline in sourcing Nazi memorabilia for him from Eastern Europe. If Robb Stark gets into bed with the Freys, he'll be making the same mistake Robert did with Cersi all those years ago."

Renly added, "But let me guess…Robb Stark needs the Frey's money and the Goddamn Freys are only too happy to oblige as marriage into the ancient, respected, _most honourable_ Stark family gives them some much needed credibility. Not to mention the opportunity to launder more of their dirty money through the Winterfell Estate."

Gendry remembered Robb's fiancé in the bar with that bankers hand up her skirt. He knew Robb needed millions to fix the decaying Winterfell roof. Jon had flatly refused to be Best Man - to have anything at all to do with the bloody wedding. It seemed Jon had the right idea all along.

"So she's only marrying Robb so her family can get their hands on Winterfell?"

Renly exhaled slowly. "You're learning Gendry. Not many marriages take place between the great houses of Westeros for love. I've never met Robb Stark, but if he's anything like his father, he'll be putting Winterfell's needs before his own, something you might have to do too…someday soon."

Gendry narrowed his eyes and fixed Renly with a piercing stare. "If you mean bloody Margaery Tyrell, you can fucking forget it!" he hissed at his uncle.

"If she's pregnant with the bastard of Storm's End…" Renly shrugged, his face betraying no emotion, simply leaving the implication hanging in the air between them.

Loras coughed. "We were talking about Tyrion and Jaime…"

Gendry tore his eyes away from Renly to look at Loras, but his mind was racing. The pain in his hand, the Full Moon, the Lannisters, the fucking Freys were all momentarily forgotten - _how did Renly know about Margaery? _

Gendry had only found out that morning. As long as he lived, he would never forget the horror and the pain he'd felt when he'd unfolded his newspaper to be confronted with a photograph of Arya, wearing Margaery's costume, running out of a nightclub with that blue haired fucker. The only people he'd discussed it with since were Jon and Loras. Loras had admitted he and Jon suspected last night, but the meeting with Tyrion had finished way past midnight. Renly had left with Tyrion and Loras had stayed in his office working and, according to Jon, had still been there, sleeping at his desk when Jon woke him to could go and find Arya. It was possible Loras and Renly had spoken sometime during the night…unlikely, but possible. The alternative was too fucking awful to contemplate – that Renly had been in on it all with Margaery.

Gendry felt as if time was suspended. His mind was racing so fast, the rest of the world seemed to have stopped. What should he do? Should he confront Renly now – with Loras here? That would lead to a shouting match, accusations flying over Edric's prone body. _Fuck it!_ What was he thinking? Edric was all that mattered tonight. Gendry needed Renly and Loras tonight and Edric needed them all. The Pack needed to work together. He would have to push all thoughts of bloody Margaery and bloody Renly out of his mind until tomorrow…

"Gendry – you ok?" he heard Loras ask.

"What? Yeah. Just more Full Moon jitters. I'm finding it hard to concentrate."

Loras looked concerned, then smiled slightly, "Just bear with me a while longer and I'll finish telling you why Tyrion is helping us. I didn't know this either, but many years ago, while Tyrion was at university, he met a foreign exchange student called Tysha. He got her pregnant and immediately married her. Thing is, he omitted to tell his father. When Tywin found out he was furious. Shortly after, she got a message to say her mother had suddenly taken ill and she immediately flew home. Tyrion was supposed to follow in a few days, after his final exams. Before he got there she was murdered." Loras rubbed his hand over his shorn hair and grimaced. He looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath before continuing. "Seemed like a random hate crime. She was gang raped first, then cut up. Horrific. They found her torso in the river, head in a landfill site. Couldn't have been more brutal." Loras paused again, fixing his eyes on Gendry. "Turns out it was all arranged by Tywin Lannister to get the girl out of the picture and Jaime knew – about the plan to get the girl out of the country anyway. He swears he didn't know about the rest, says he thought she was supposed to be paid off to stay away and divorce Tyrion. She was the only girl Tyrion ever loved apparently and there was the baby…" Loras trailed of. "So you can see why Tyrion wants blood."

"Why did Jaime decide to come clean now?"

"Ah, well…that's where you come in. Jaime and Brienne went to see Tyrion after your show with Cersi. Seems Jaime had issues with Cersi's comments about the world being a better place without Tyrion in it and the Nazi genetic cleansing stuff – Jaime didn't know about that apparently; hates what it represents as much as the rest of us. Seems Jaime and Tyrion are actually quite close and once they got talking, Tyrion told Jaime some home truths about the other guys Cersi had fucked over the years, friends and…ah…other relatives. You were just the latest in a _very_ long line."

"I didn't fuck the bitch." Gendry said coldly.

Loras shrugged. "Turns out Jaime's not as open minded as he thought he was. The attack on Edric dragged his daughter into it and, for Jaime that was the final straw. Tywin Lannister is doing to Myrcella what he did to Tyrion all those years ago and Jaime isn't going to turn a blind eye a second time. He confessed to Tyrion what he knew about Tysha and here we are. Tyrion wants revenge…."

"…and he's using us to get it." Gendry finished.

Loras shrugged. "Doesn't matter a damn to me _how_ we get him and I don't think Edric would care either, as long as we do."

"Let's go do this then." Gendry muttered, bending over Edric. Renly kissed one of Edric's waxy cheeks. Gendry kissed the other.

As they stood up to leave Gendry had one last question.

"What was so wrong with that poor girl Tysha? Why would Tywin murder his own son's wife?"

"She was a Jew."

-o-

**1 hour until Moonrise**

It had been embarrassingly easy to give 'Dave' and his equally gormless companion the slip. Loras would be livid _if _he ever found out. Arya didn't intend that he would.

Moonrise was only one hour away now. The sun was beginning to dip down low behind the London city skyline, with warm reds and oranges staining the western sky. Gendry was out there somewhere, with Jon, Loras and Renly, doing what they had to do. She wondered how Gendry was feeling; scared, apprehensive? Maybe he was feeling like the King of the World. He might protest that he hadn't wanted the bite, but she knew better. He loved it. To be something special, to be better than everyone else was what he had always wanted, even if he wouldn't even admit it to himself.

His life before had been ordinary…hard…not knowing who his father was and with no money. Until she came along, he might have spent his whole life working in Baratheon's garage, but she did come along… and so had his father. Now Gendry had everything he'd ever dreamed of; money, power, superhuman ability, but he didn't have her. She wondered if he'd give it all up tomorrow if he could go back, if it could be just be the two of them again in his flat with no Renly, no Baratheon Enterprises and no bloody Werewolves.

She would – in a heart beat, but would that be fair on him? He would no longer have all the things _he_ wanted. He'd have no family, no Pack, no money. Now he had it all and he could have any woman he wanted – any woman except her.

She let herself into the Gallery of Black and White; sure that Jaqen would be gone. She had never thought to ask before where he lived. Loras would know. Loras knew everything and he would be secretly pleased if she asked him something like that. He might pretend to be modest, that he was just doing his job, letting Renly take all the glory, but Loras loved it. He loved being gorgeous, he loved living the Baratheon lifestyle with Renly, he loved being the best at everything he did and teaching Jon. She smiled when she remembered how he'd given her the fierce code name 'Nymeria' and pretended to be Christian Grey. She wondered if she would ever see him again.

Arya wandered over to Jaqen's painting of the Angel Soldier. It was a little ritual she used to have – to say 'Hi' to him before she started work. She'd missed him. He looked so calm, so enigmatic, with those lapis lazuli eyes that reminded her so much of Gendry's. She had intended to buy the painting, but had never asked Jaqen the price. She knew that, if she had asked him, he would have given it to her, but it was too late now. That moment had passed. She remembered the last time they had been together in Harrenhal and the way Jaqen had kissed her – like a drowning man, desperate for her.

Could she ever be happy with Jaqen, or Aegon? Could either of them…could anyone…fill the Gendry sized hole in her heart?

She didn't put the gallery lights on although the daylight was almost gone. She knew there was no-one around, but she stole quietly up the stairs anyway. She put Lyanna's tape in Jaqen's antique music system and pressed rewind. She wanted to hear it from the beginning – hear what Rhaegar had wanted to say to Lyanna and what Lyanna never got to hear.

The tape machine juddered to a halt. She pressed 'play' and turned the volume down until the hiss of static was just audible. As the first bars of the first song drifted out from the speakers, hidden somewhere around the room, she lay down on Jaqen's big leather couch and closed her eyes.

The first strum of the guitar hit her in the centre of her chest, the deep breath before Rhaegar sang the first word sounded as if he had taken it moments before and not decades ago. The smooth growl of the lyrics was ripe with promise and aching, aching longing

_A gypsy wind is blowing warm tonight  
The sky is starlit and the time is right…_

Rhaegar sung to her now across the years the way he had wanted to sing to Lyanna and as Aegon had sung to her that afternoon. Rhaegar's voice merged with Aegon's, Aegon's hand on her knee in the Ferrari, became Rhaegar's hand on Lyanna in 1985.

_You're high above me now you're wild and free, ah but_

_Someday lady you'll accompany me_

Lyanna had been 'wild and free'. Wasn't that what Arya had always wanted too? She could go to America with Aegon but would that make her feel wild and free?

In the fading light, as the sun set, they all merged into one; Rhaegar and Aegon, Lyanna and herself, sending her head and her heart spinning. Arya covered her face with her hands. She had never felt so uncertain or alone.

The rest of the tape passed in a haze of jumbled thoughts. At some point she recognised the 'Romeo and Juliet' song from Aegon's car as they left Storm's End. She listened to all of the lyrics now. The man could have been singing about Gendry and her.

_You can fall for chains of silver, you can fall for chains of gold  
You can fall for pretty strangers and the promises they hold  
You promised me everything you promised me thick and thin yeah  
Now you just say oh Romeo yeah you know I used to have a thing with him_

Gendry had fallen for Baratheon chains of gold. He had certainly promised her everything. But did he fall for Margaery Tyrell – the pretty stranger of the song? Was Arya ready to walk away and leave him, to say indifferently "Gendry Baratheon? Yeah, you know I used to have a thing with him."

It would be so easy to just go…just leave with Aegon…get as far away from Gendry and what she'd thought she'd wanted as possible.

By the time the tape clicked off, it was night. They were out there - hunting.

-o-

**Moonrise**

As the sun set, the three of them sat, naked, amongst the trees, about a mile away from the road and a mile away from Tyrion's sprawling mansion. Loras had chosen this spot for their transformation. After Rhaegar's appearance had altered all Loras' meticulously prepared plans, there had been no time for reconnaissance or trial runs. Loras had simply taken one of his Team's unmarked cars and driven it to the tourist car park nearest to Tyrion's Country Estate. From there, they had hiked through the forest in the general direction of Tyrion's house.

On the way, Renly had received text from Tyrion on a new, unregistered mobile specifically obtained for their mission.

'SS arrived unexpectedly. Should be to everyone's benefit. x'

"I like the kiss at the end" Loras had smirked.

Renly explained this was code for 'Sweet Sister' – Cersi. The Nazi connotation of the 'SS' code was apparently just coincidence. She was with her father in Tyrion's house. Loras argued they should seize the opportunity to cut off the viper's tale as well as its head. Renly argued against deviating any further from the original plan. Eventually they agreed Tywin remained the primary target, but if they got a shot at Cersi, they'd take it.

Gendry was feeling too ill and distracted to add anything to the discussion. If he hadn't already felt sick to the pit of his stomach, hearing Cersi's name would have done it for him. He was alternating between sweating and shivering, between burning with an urgent, agitated need to run and the need to lie down and sleep.

Once they reached a small clearing in the trees, Loras had made Gendry take off all his clothes. When Gendry had tried to protest, he'd been told, "you either get naked now or you'll be naked after. Think your clothes are gonna stretch to fit a 9 foot wolf?"

The three of them had disrobed and deposited their clothes in Loras' large, black rucksack. The rucksack was then hidden high up in a tree, using climbing equipment Loras had brought with him. Gendry was sitting directly under the rucksack, but when he looked up, he could barely see it. There was no chance it would be found, even if someone happened to wander past before dawn. Loras had obviously done this before.

Out of the rucksack, stowed in a ziplock bag, had come one of Tywin Lannister's

gloves, obtained for them by Tyrion. Loras passed it to Gendry.

"We know where Tywin _should_ be, where our entrance is, but just in case - familiarise yourself with this."

Gendry sniffed the glove. This was the scent of the Lannister who was responsible for Edric; the Lannister who was going to pay with his life.

As the three of them sat in their naked semi-circle, passing the glove between them, Gendry was suddenly struck by the absurdity of the situation. If anyone had seen them sitting bollock naked, in the middle of a forest, sniffing a glove at twilight, they would all be locked up and the key thrown away.

Gendry thought he should be laughing, but instead he wretched up some yellow bile.

"How come you two aren't suffering like I am?" he moaned, clutching his stomach. With every passing minute he was feeling worse.

"We are. We're just used to it. When you know there's nothing you can do about it, you stop trying to fight it." Renly explained nonchalantly.

"Lie down. That'll help." Loras suggested.

Gendry lay down, digging his fingers into the damp earth of the forest floor. Looking up at the sky, seeing the first stars beginning to appear as the daylight faded, seemed to steady him, anchor his world. The Moon was coming and her call, which had been building for the past month, was now a roaring in his ears.

"I might have forgotten to mention, but you can't talk when you become a wolf." Loras said casually. "Actually there's not much human left. You are a passenger in The Wolf's body. Instinct takes over and you'll just have to go with it."

"How the hell am I supposed to stick to the plan then?"

"Leave that to us. Your instinct will carry you through. You'll help us without even thinking about it…it's a Pack thing. The more Moons you see, the more you'll be able to control The Wolf, but the first time…forget it. At least I had to. It's all too…strange. Think of it like losing your virginity. You just have to get the first time over with and after that, you can practice, begin to enjoy it."

"Loras and I are still _practising_ certain aspects." Renly smirked, arching one eyebrow in Loras' direction. "We've got a couple of hours to kill before we rendezvous with Jon and Rhaegar, so you might want to go stretch your new legs. Mummy and Daddy are gonna have them some fun." Renly licked his lips suggestively and stroked the back of Loras' neck.

Loras grinned and winked at Gendry. "Unless you want to watch…or hey…even join in?"

Gendry groaned and rolled over onto his side, drawing his legs up into a foetal position, hoping it would ease the pain in his guts. Then he realised he was presenting his bare, hairy arse to Loras and Renly and quickly rolled the other way.

They both laughed at him. It lightened the mood, but didn't make Gendry feel any better.

The minutes dragged by. The pain worsened. The night grew darker.

Just when Gendry thought he couldn't take anymore, that his guts were about to explode out through his head, he heard Loras moan "Here we go…see you on the other side. Whatever happens, we meet here at sunrise."

"_Ours is the fury_!" Renly rasped.

The Moon must have risen over the horizon as, when Gendry tried to answer with a Baratheon war cry of his own, he no longer had a voice.

**The Moon rose**.** The sun set.**

Gendry was too preoccupied with himself to watch what happened to the other two. Writhing under the sensuous, first sliver light of the Full Moon, he felt as if an invisible giant or perhaps God, was playing with him; tearing him apart, ripping muscle and sinew, breaking his bones, forging him a new, monstrous image. The pain was indescribable as his body re-arranged itself into The Wolf, but when it was done, it felt _so right_.

The past month had only been preparation, a mere taste of what he was to become. The predatory power, the hunger, the majesty of the Wolf was laid before him now and he was awed by the sheer potential of what he instinctively knew he could do.

He heard them, he saw them and now he_ felt _them; Renly and Loras, his Pack.

Having changed faster than him, or being more used to the transformation, they were already standing, waiting, watching; Renly huge and black, his pelt gleaming like obsidian under the moonlight, Loras not much smaller, shaded brown and tan, with sleek flanks of lupine muscle and cunning orange eyes.

Seeing their brother changed, they growled a welcome. Wet, wolf noses, sniffed the air, catching his scent. Loras lifted his leg and shot a stream of hot piss at the nearest tree. _Whatever happens we meet here at sunrise_. 'Here' was now indelibly marked, but Gendry, or The Wolf (he was no longer sure which) had other ideas. Yes, his Pack needed him tonight for the hunt, but _She_ was also out there somewhere.

Loras and Renly – did those names still apply? – _his brothers_, were now sniffing, licking, and playfully biting at each other's necks. Gendry knew where that would lead. He had time, time to stretch his new legs.

He turned and ran through the trees, wanting out of the woods, out of the shadows, to be bathed by the full light of The Moon. He could see as clearly as if it was daylight and, without a conscious thought, The Wolf ran through the trees, fast then faster as he grew accustomed to his new, lupine body, instinctively finding the balance, finding the rhythm. The still air he cut through carried the scents of the night; pine, water, myriad forms of life; rabbit, fox, bird, but none of _them _would cure his hunger. There was one scent, one _stink_, he sought – Lannister.

He broke through the trees and _out into the Moonlight_. It was as sensuous as a lover's caress, as comforting as a mother's touch. _This_ is what he had waited for in the long, cruel month since his father's bite. He stopped for a moment and raised his muzzle to the sky, glorying in the feel of Moonlight on his transformed self, but knowing the night was too short to stop for long. Already he felt the heavy certainty that it would end, that this blissful state was finite and that he would spend the coming month longing for this night to come again. So he ran; higher and faster until he was as high as he could go, silhouetted against the starlit sky, looking down upon the valley, the fields, the forests, the food…looking down upon _everything _and it was all his for the taking.

Then he heard it; his brother's call. It was time…time for the hunt and after…after he would go to _her_. He lifted his head to The Moon and howled.

-o-

The Gallery of Black and White was in darkness. Only a shaft of moonlight from a skylight high above, pierced the black, bathing Arya's face in silver light as smooth as silk. She felt The Moon calling her, like a ghost wolf tugging at her subconscious. She felt cold wind rushing through wolf fur that wasn't there, felt moonlight and forests full of trees rushing past as she ran with Lyanna and Brandon and all the generations of Starks before, with Renly, Loras, Gendry and her brother Jon.

Wild and free wasn't Aegon and it wasn't America. She finally understood she was searching for freedom in the wrong place – she should be out there with her Pack; running, feeling hot breath flowing over her wolf tongue, her wet snout sensing _everything_. She was the night wolf, tasting the first cold snowflakes over Winterfell. The black crags and snow topped mountains, so wild and majestic would be hers; all hers to hunt. Her mouth watered as she imagined thick dark blood staining virgin snow under the light of the Full Moon.

She lay still, no longer listening to Rhaegar's music, but listening for a howl that she knew wouldn't come. Not here, not in the city, but He was out there _somewhere_, calling to her.

-o-

Reunited with his brothers, Gendry could smell Jon and Rhaegar; the stink of the Alpha Wolf offended him. _He's not my Pack_. The hackles rose on Gendry's neck.

From the scent, carried on the light breeze, Gendry could _smell_ exactly where Jon and Rhaegar were, but he wasn't prepared for what he _saw_. As they broke through the tree line, he saw Jon standing with his hand resting on the shoulder of a massive albino wolf; like a ghost, eyes like glowing red coals and pelt white as snow. The Targaryen ghost wolf growled a warning, snout raised, body tensed, tail held straight behind. _I am the Alpha and you will submit to me_.

The three other wolves slowed, still moving but not forwards, circling, wary, mere feet away from the man and his wolf. Jon's scent was comforting, reassuring, but with a bitter tang of tension and adrenaline tonight. They didn't need Jon to confirm Rhaegar had bitten Edric. They could smell Edric's blood on the Alpha Wolf's breath.

Rhaegar's own stench assaulted Gendry's nostrils and caused the hackles on his neck to rise higher. Renly's and Loras' tails were down, their shoulders hunched in supplication to the Alpha. Not Gendry's; this was the Targaryen – father of the blue haired fucker who had taken his mate and Gendry wouldn't submit so readily. He snarled his own warning, lips pulled back to display magnificent incisors, tail and hackles raised, ears alert, eyes narrowed.

The albino was on him in an instant. He felt the Targaryen's jaws around his throat, squeezing, cutting off the air. Gendry shook his neck, rolled his powerful shoulders, trying to turn to force his attacker to within biting range of his own voracious maw. He heard Loras and Renly yelp and snap. The Albino's grip loosed enough for Gendry to twist free, but immediately Jon was between them again, hands outstretched, silent, but radiating anger and impatience.

Rhaegar snarled at Gendry who responded with equal aggression.

"Enough!" hissed Jon. "The enemy is that way, not here!" he flung one arm in the direction of Tyrion's house.

Both Gendry and Rhaegar took reluctant steps back. Their time would come, but it wasn't now.

Jon opened the gate for them. The wolves could have been at the house in moments, but even with Jon running at full speed, an easy trot would suffice for the wolves. Man and wolves hugged the tree line. Rhaegar followed Jon, then Loras with the two, black Baratheon wolves bringing up the rear.

Jon stopped, breathing heavy, holding up a hand. The cover of trees and bushes ended here. The final distance would have to be closed over open ground. There were three heartbeats in the house – as it should be. Tyrion and their prey. The scent, familiar from the Lannister's gloves, was carried to them, picked up by eager snouts, raised into the breeze. Four muzzles drooled in anticipation. Gendry also caught something else. He wondered if the others recognised it as he did – the oozing, treacherous cunt of the whore Cersi Lannister. Jon silently pointed at an open upstairs window – the message clear. _There is your prey._

Jon crossed the open grass first, digging around in the bushes for a ladder, conveniently placed earlier in the day by the owner of the house. Gendry smelled sweet honeysuckle and lavender, disturbed by Jon's searching.

Once Jon had the ladder up against the wall, the others broke cover. Four bounds and they were there. No ladder for them. The roof of the gardener's tool shed was reached in one bound by Rhaegar, white pelt glistening in the moonlight and from there another bound would take him crashing through the window. From then on, time would be of the essence, the occupant of the room would be alerted, they would need to be quick, work together.

Jon stood with the ladder, ready to set it as soon as the wolves were in. He nodded to the ghost wolf. Time to move.

The Targaryen leapt, one single bound launching him through the window. The instant he leapt, Gendry leapt for the roof of the shed, another bound taking him through the window, after the Targaryen. They were fast, so fast, the human's movements seemed as if they took place in slow motion. Renly landing softly behind them as their prey sat up in bed. Loras was also in, by the time the Lannister's eyes registered any kind of comprehension. But something was wrong…

They could hardly smell him. The Lannister should be stinking by now; fear, sweat, heart pounding. Gendry could see him, hear him gasp in shock, but couldn't smell him. Rhaegar should have been on him by now, jaws clamped around the Lannister's golden throat, ripping it apart, but instead the wolf was wary, holding back, sniffing at something on the ground.

Gendry wasn't going to wait. He launched himself at the four poster bed, only to watch in horror as his paws became hands again, his forward motion halted, as if by an invisible wall, that flung him back, slamming him against the furniture, shattering it beneath him with an almighty crash.

He looked at his hands – miraculously wolf paws again. What the hell was that?

Tywin Lannister was cackling with hysterical laughter as three wolves paced the outer reaches of the huge room and Gendry recovered himself from the floor. Another golden head raised itself from the bed - Cersi Lannister. The covers fell from her, revealing an Iron Cross hanging from a swastika embellished ribbon, nestled between those, heavy swinging tits. The shock on her face made a hideous picture as she clutched at her father's arm in fear.

Gendry wanted to shout, vent his anger, let them know what was coming, but when he opened his mouth, all that came out was a hideously spine chilling howl. It reverberated around the room and was taken up by the other wolves, all howling at The Lannisters they could not reach.

"You fools!" Tywin screamed at them from the bed, "You think Tywin Lannister wouldn't take precautions on the night of the Full Moon! That rope around my bed is made from pure Wolfsbane! You'll never get across it, but I can!"

He leant over the edge of his bed and yanked a small, black, carbon fibre crossbow out from under it. Gendry saw the pointed arrow head glint unmistakeably silver. _Damn that fucking Lannister. Why did it have to be silver? _As Tywin raised the crossbow, Gendry saw the first bolt was already loaded and ready to fire.

He could smell panic from his brothers – they knew the power of Wolfsbane and silver and they were afraid.

Then Cersi screamed "A man!"

Jon was in the room, running, pulling a knife from his boot, then on his knees sawing at the rope. Gendry recognised the blade from the night in his flat when Jon had saved his life once before; the razor sharp blade cut through the entwined strands of Wolfsbane quickly, but not quickly enough. The first bolt from Tywin's crossbow caught Jon in the shoulder. He squatted back on his haunches, momentarily stunned, but almost immediately set back to work again on the rope, as Tywin loaded and fired bolt after bolt into Jon, knowing that, if he could stop him, the Werewolves would be unable to reach him. Each bolt fired found a target; piercing Jon's bicep, his thigh, his other shoulder. Amidst Cersi's hysterical screams, they heard a 'thwack' as each bolt was unleashed, followed by the dull, wet thud of metal piercing flesh. Jon continued to work on the rope, while the wolves watched and waited, powerless to help.

It had only taken moments, but Jon was finally through the rope. Throwing one end as far away as he could, he created a gap for the wolves to enter, before he collapsed on his side on the floor.

Rhaegar was through first, launching himself at Tywin as the Lannister desperately tried to reload the crossbow. He was still raising the bow up as Rhaegar's paws hit his shoulders, full force, sending him sprawling back onto the bed with the albino Werewolf on top of him.

Tywin's fingers, in their final death spasm, unleashed the final bolt, firing it wildly up into the air, where it pierced the throat of Renly's black wolf, in mid pounce for Cersi. As the silver arrow head found its target, the black wolf gave one, blood curdling howl, before it fell backwards onto the floor. Loras stopped mid charge and turned sharply, desperately whining, trying to bite at the fletched end of the bolt with his jaws.

Gendry, who had been furthest away from the opening made by Jon in the Wolfsbane rope, reacted with an instinct far deeper and quicker than he could think. His wolf haunches tensed, then propelled him forward. Before he had time to think, he was on the bed, with his jaws clamped around Cersi's soft, pale throat. He squeezed, instantly puncturing her vocal cords with his fangs. The hysterical screaming, then even her breathing stopped as he ripped through her windpipe. His appetite was whetted by thick, dark blood spurting into his mouth and down his pelt from severed arteries. Her lips moved, but no sound came. Her shocked green eyes blinked once before he gashed her from sternum to pelvis with one fierce swipe of his claws. She folded like a rag doll as her guts spilled out in one hot gush.

Only then did he turn.

Rhaegar had already killed Tywin. The Lannister's head lay at a weird angle, his neck almost bitten clean through, his limbs spread-eagled, his blood running into his daughter's like the confluence of some obscene river. Now Rhaegar was crouched beside Jon, his son's blood staining the wolf's white pelt. Jon was already slick with a sheen of sweat. He had already removed two of the four bolts himself, silver arrowheads being no different to any other kind, unless you were a Werewolf. The white wolf was licking the open wounds, to stem the flow of blood. One bolt remained embedded in Jon's shoulder and one in his thigh. Frothy blood foamed from the corner of Jon's mouth – the result of an arrow pierced his lung. Did Gendry know that, or was it The Wolf? It didn't matter. What mattered was whether Jon would be able to call for help before he passed out from shock and loss of blood.

Loras was hunched over his lover, frantically licking Renly's face, but Renly had already changed. He was no longer the black wolf; he was once again unmistakably Baratheon with blue eyes and black hair, but the blue eyes were empty, staring glassily skyward. His ruined throat was a mass of blood; the Lannister's silver arrowhead still lodged in his neck. If it had been anything other than silver…

Wolves can't cry, so Loras howled; his plaintive, heart rending wail, causing the hairs to stand up on the necks of every wolf and human who heard. Gendry joined in, then Rhaegar, the three of them howling together to mourn their fallen brother.

Within moments, there was an urgent banging on the other side of the door. The door was bolted from their side. Tyrion was out there, shouting "Is everything done? Can one of you let me in?"

Jon tried to sit up and failed. Gendry took a run towards the door. Jon managed to shout a hoarse warning to Tyrion just in time. Gendry crashed through the door, sending the door, its wooden surround and part of the wall flying.

Tyrion, crouching, peeked around the edge of the door as Gendry shook pieces of wood and plaster from his pelt. Tyrion seemed quite delighted by the carnage on the bed. He waddled over to the bloody mess. Tywin's bowels had loosed after his death adding to the horror of the scene.

"Plenty of shit, but alas no gold" Tyrion chuckled to himself. "Tysha is avenged. My Lord…my sweet sister, may you rot in hell."

Only when he turned, did he see Renly lying behind the bulk of Loras' wolf.

"Dear God! Renly!" Tyrion fell to his knees, cradling Renly's head in his arms as Loras stood guard over his dead lover.

"One arrow? It only took one arrow?!" he wailed, incredulously.

"Silver." Jon grunted. "Now my phone please Tyrion…or Renly might not be the only one in our party to die tonight."

Tyrion gently laid Renly's head on the floor as Renly's unseeing eyes gazed skyward. Then Tyrion shuffled over to where Jon lay. The albino wolf standing over Jon growled a warning. Tyrion looked up at it warily.

"I have no idea who _you_ are Sir, but rest assured I am no threat to Jon."

Tyrion tore at the pocket Jon indicated and pulled out the phone.

"Press call…and hold it to my ear." Jon gasped, before the pain caused by speaking caused him to inhale sharply and grit his teeth. The call was answered immediately and a Jon spoke a series of pre-arranged words. Most of it made no sense to Gendry but 'The King is dead' and 'Snow has fallen' certainly did. Gendry prowled around, while Jon spoke, occasionally growling at Tyrion. Loras and Rhaegar stood vigil over their men.

When Jon was finished, he let the phone drop to the floor and then collapsed backwards himself. Rhaegar whined and Tyrion shuffled back over to him.

"It…didn't…exactly…go…as…planned" Jon gasped to Tyrion. "…a team are coming….going to…burn this…done it before." Jon turned his head towards Loras and tried to smile. The pain of the movement turned the smile into an agonised grimace. "I learned from the best." He managed to whisper.

"Well. It's over, one way or another." Tyrion said gently "and I think I might be best if I disappear before they arrive."

Jon nodded, his eyes closed and his face was a mask of pain. Three pairs of orange wolf eyes watched Tyrion waddle towards the hole in the wall where the door used to be. He turned and bowed, suddenly formal.

"I thank you all and give my regards to Edric. I'm proud to be able to say Renly Baratheon was my friend."

Once Tyrion was gone, Jon looked up at his father through heavy lidded eyes, blood bubbling from his mouth.

"Not…long now…"

Rhaegar growled his acknowledgment.

"Bite me now. Then go…"

Rhaegar whined and nuzzled Jon's face, licking his now closed eyes.

"Do it now…before…it's too late." Jon managed to rasp.

Rhaegar hesitated for a moment, then moved his snout lower. With a sudden, fluid movement, he bit Jon's thigh. Jon grimaced with pain.

"Ahhhh…" Jon moaned through gritted teeth. "See…you…on…the…other…side." He whispered, so quietly only the wolves could hear, before he lapsed into unconsciousness.

Rhaegar howled and, once again, Loras and Gendry added their mournful cries. And then they fed.

-o-

Arya woke with a start, imagining she heard her Pack howling and the warm, metallic taste of blood in her mouth. She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, but there was so sign of blood. As she dragged her mind back from her dream of wolves, she heard was a soft voice calling her name from somewhere in the darkness.

She sat up, heart thumping, expecting the Wolf senses she had just dreamed of to hear the intruder's heartbeat and inhale their scent…but there was nothing. Just Arya and the voice she finally recognised as Jaqen's.

"A girl shouldn't be afraid" he said softly from somewhere in the darkness. She looked around, but her mere human eyes couldn't see him in the shadows.

"I'm not afraid of you Jaqen." she said defiantly. She was the night wolf, afraid of no man.

Jaqen stepped out of the shadows, a lazy, half smile on his lips.

"How long have you been here?" she demanded.

He shrugged. "This man has always been here."

She sighed and collapsed back on the couch again. More riddles – but what else did she expect from him?

"If a girl asks for help, this man must give it."

"How can you help me Jaqen? How can you help me when I don't know what I want myself?"

He sat down on the edge of her couch. She shifted her hips and legs so she wasn't touching him. His face fell when she moved away. Then she felt guilty. She had intended to thank him.

"I...uh...I need to thank you for the other night…I don't mean for Harrenhal – I still don't know what that was…but for saving my life."

"This girl knows what happened at Harrenhal, but this girl has closed her mind and doesn't wish to believe."

He took her hand. She tried to draw it back, but he held her wrist and started massaging her palm gently, with strong, sure fingers. With each stroke, she felt her tension draining away.

"A girl must relax; open her mind to see clearly."

"I can't. There's too much going on tonight."

He started working upwards from her palm, to her wrist, to her elbow. The rhythm of his strong, smooth strokes became hypnotic. By the time he had reached her shoulders, despite herself, Arya could feel her eye lids begin to droop. She was so tired and Jaqen was right – she needed to relax, there was nothing she could do to help The Pack out there tonight.

Jaqen kneaded her shoulders, intuitively finding and working on knots of tension. All Arya's jumbled thoughts about Gendry and Aegon, Margaery and Lyanna, that had seemed to be screaming for her attention a few hours ago, were now retreating into the hazy distance. She wanted to tell Jaqen that everything was too complicated, that no-one could possibly understand, but she was feeling so relaxed, fighting it seemed to be too much of an effort. Maybe he could help. It wouldn't hurt to try, would it?

"I'll try Jaqen" she murmured as his fingers caressed her neck and his thumbs massaged her shoulders.

"If a girl opened her mind she would see that some lives are linked across time… and a girl would know that this man can help…has helped before."

Arya shivered under his touch, goosebumps breaking out all over her skin, but Jaqen seemed oblivious, continuing with that slow, steady rhythm.

"Is that what I saw…I mean… what I felt in Harrenhal?"

"A girl felt echoes through time…" He paused. All she could hear was their breathing, "….a girl could call it _destiny_."

More riddles, but she found that she didn't care so much anymore. As long as he was touching her, soothing her, nothing else seemed to matter much.

"Who did a girl think of in Harrenhal…who does she think of now?"

She could hear the hope in Jaqen's voice, but she could only think of Gendry. It had to be Gendry. Only him.

"Gendry." She whispered.

She knew Jaqen wanted her to say his name, but she couldn't. Jaqen exhaled slowly, a soft sound so full of regret and resignation. He knew it wasn't him. He had always known it wasn't him, but she felt his hope die.

She wanted to explain to Jaqen, to make him understand.

"It's been Gendry since my first day at school. I was scared, but he was there. He was so much bigger than me and he looked after me. I wasn't scared anymore."

"So… a friend?"

She nodded, rolling her head around in a lazy circle, as Jaqen's skilled hands worked their magic.

"My friend…until the day he left me behind. We had been together every day and then he just wasn't there. He wouldn't look at me and it made me so unhappy." Arya had to choke back tears as all the confusion and all the bewilderment came flooding back. She hadn't revisited those memories for years. She had tried to shut them away, but suddenly she was 12 years old again, hurt and lost. Where had her best friend gone and how could he suddenly leave her?

"More than a friend…?" Jaqen asked softly.

"I think…I think that's what I want, but I'm so mixed-up and lost without him." She didn't know if she was talking about school anymore or Harrenhal or all of it. "He won't look at me and I want him to. I want him to look at me the way he looks at the other girls. I want him to do to me what he does with those other girls. Oh, I don't know what I want him to do to me – but I want something…_I want more._ " she sobbed.

Jaqen let her cry for a while, holding her against his chest while tears streamed down her face.

"A lover…?" he asked. Was that the sound of hope again in his voice?

She suddenly stopped crying, Jaqen forgotten. She wasn't sad anymore, she was back in the doctor's office in Winterfell and Gendry was there. This time things were very different. She was happy, happier and more excited than she'd ever been before. She could feel herself grinning from ear to ear,

"I just met him again and…as soon as I saw him… Oh God! He is everything I remembered and more. He's all grown up and so hot! He's the one, I can feel it and the best thing…the very best thing is…he feels it too. There's a photograph of us taken a few years ago that he's got framed in his flat. I'm gazing up at him and it's so sappy. I was mortified when I saw that photograph again, but he kept it. He asked my brother for it and he framed it. I love that he did…it proves that he feels the same way too…I'm so happy... "

"This girl can go forward now."

"How can I…?"

Arya wanted to sink into sleep and savour the joy she was feeling just now; the first flush of love, the mind blowing sex. She wanted to forget everything else, but Jaqen persisted.

"Open your mind. One year from now…what does this girl see?"

Arya's eyes were closed, but she saw the images appear, clear as day behind her eyelids.

"We're together and I can see him cradling a baby in his arms, a boy…a big, blue eyed boy who looks just like him…I…oh…" Arya found herself too choked to carry on. _She had a_ _baby. She had his baby. _She was sobbing again, but with joy and relief this time.

"Shhhh" Jaqen pressed his warm lips against her ear. She could feel his heat on her back and his fingers on her temples. Was he massaging her or channelling something through her, like he had at Harrenhal? She wasn't sure.

"_Ten years…"_

"He's there, but he's not so close and I'm exhausted. The kids are running around everywhere. I can't catch them; all boys that look like him and I'm pregnant again and I'm so tired…"

Tears again and she didn't know if they were tears of joy for the children or tears of self pity and exhaustion.

"_Thirty years…"_

"It's just the two of us again. Our kids are around somewhere, but they don't need us much anymore. He's got silver in his hair and we're so close again. I love him so much. I can't believe I still love him so much after all these years…"

Arya started sobbing quietly again.

"Does a girl have her answer?" Jaqen whispered in the dark, but Arya was too lost in memories, or was it dreams, to answer him.

-o-

**4 hours until sunrise.**

She is out there, somewhere in the city and I have to find her…

I left my brothers while Loras was still howling for his fallen love; my fallen brother.

One bound took me out of the window and down onto dewy grass. Wolf haunches easily absorbed the impact that would have shattered my human legs and I was off and running.

I was rushing past the place where we had changed, picking up the stench of Loras' piss and remembering Renly's last words, when I heard the humans coming for Jon. I paused for a moment to watch the fleet of black Baratheon vehicles. Their urgency was tangible in their speed and the body language of their drivers, hunched over steering wheels. They would take my brother Jon to the hospital where my brother Edric was waiting…and they would take Renly to the morgue.

I had to get to the city…to get to her.

Miles flew easily under my legs. I had gorged on Lannister flesh and I could run for as far and as fast as I needed. The Full Moon, still riding high in the starlit sky, urged me on.

Two hours passed. Forest and fields gave way to sleepy, dark villages, that became suburbs, then finally city and still The Wolf did not tire.

Rooftops were safest now – easiest; the distance between buildings presented no obstacle to The Wolf. Concrete and tiles flew under my legs just as swiftly as grass and rock. Muscles, sinew and bone all with only one purpose now; my wet, wolf snout searching, my eyes that made night seem day, steering me towards my goal. She is out there somewhere and I will find her.

The Targaryen's home first - the last place I'd seen her. One heartbeat moving as the Targaryen paced. Her scent was old and I was relived. Not here, not now – somewhere else. No time to waste on the Targaryen. I could feel the power of The Moon beginning to wane and with a renewed sense of urgency I turned and ran into the night.

Her flat – the scent fresher here, heartbeats in the building, but hers? Two of Loras' men, waiting in a car, their life signs slow, dull, sleeping. I needed to get closer. One bound took me from rooftop to pavement, searching; snout hypersensitive to my mate's scent. Somewhere…somewhere. I circled, searching, frustrated. Not at the front, at the back! Then I was moving – fast; her glorious smell in my snout, easier to follow than any map. No rooftops now, I couldn't risk losing her scent. No time, no time…the dark night and the Moon I loved were retreating. I needed to move faster. I was a shadow racing through empty streets, the night flowing over and around me like black silk.

The Gallery of Black and White. Why here? It didn't matter, she was here. I paced back and forwards at the door – no way through. Shattering glass windows would make too much noise, attract unwanted human attention.

Try the back entrance…retrace my steps, find the alley, find the back of the Gallery. No luck, the door and windows barred with steel. Frustration – no time; the sky beginning to lighten low on the horizon.

The roof. Retrace again, find my way up – a single story, a single bound, then up, along, up again and I was on the roof – a skylight and below _I could see her,_ lying below me, sleeping, bathed in our Moon's dying light. Finally, finally, so close. No hands, no tools, only claws and supernatural strength. Step back, crouch, JUMP and roll, instinct taking over, crashing though glass and landing, rolling and UP, animal joy, blood hot desire, the thrilling female scent of her, feeling it rush over me, filling my gut and my balls.

She bolted upright, woken by my desperate entrance. Would she scream? Would she recognise me? Want me?

Her eyes registered fear, shock, panic and then an inkling of recognition. I trembled with the effort of holding back. The Wolf wanted to fuck; her fresh scent had given me an instant, monstrous erection. She was my mate – what was I waiting for? Thank God The Moon was setting and her power over me was weakening, otherwise I might not have been able to rein The Wolf in, but I did and I stood, watching Arya, waiting for her to say something…anything.

"_Is that you?_"

The Wolf cannot speak. I could only howl, but that hardly seemed appropriate in the circumstances. The last thing I wanted to do was signal my whereabouts, or my existence, to anyone…or anything. So I moved slowly forward, so as not to scare her further with my size, my shape, my desperate animal need for her. She held out her hand and I licked, her joyous taste causing The Wolf to drool with hunger and lust.

"_It is you Gendry - isn't it?_"

I moved forward again, sniffing that glorious cunt, fighting The Wolf for control. She shook back her hair and tilted her neck, showing me the mark I had made before, when I had practiced for this sweetest of moments.

"_Bite me!_"

I took an involuntary step back, but The Wolf wasn't having that – she asked for it! Immediately I pounced and was on her, knocking her flat. She was helpless, pinned under me by massive paws. She wrapped her arms around my neck, not caring that my pelt was clumped and stiff with dried Lannister blood.

"_Bite me_" she pleaded and I did; the indescribable rapture of her blood on my tongue, of her warm, tender flesh in my mouth. Her eyes widened and she gasped with shock and pain as I clamped my jaws on her soft, sweet, surrendering body. Not to kill – not like the Lannister, oh no. She was my mate and next Full Moon we would run and hunt and fuck together.

Her arms were still around my neck as the first rays of the rising sun, pale and weak, seeped in through the smashed skylight above us. My beloved Moon was banished and my beloved Arya lay below me as I convulsed. Spasms and tearing pain wracked through me again as I changed back; limbs shrinking, snout shortening, fangs and claws retracting.

She watched it all with a calm acceptance as I writhed and my body re-arranged in front of her. When it was finished and I lay beside her, I knew she had only moments left before she lapsed into unconsciousness. I knew I had to get her to the hospital, where they would make room for her beside my brothers Jon and Edric.

"_Do you know why I changed my mind – why I let you bite me?_"

My throat was still howl sore and no sound would come from my mouth. I shook my head.

"_So I can kill you if you ever cheat on me again you bastard!_"

And with that loving threat, my beloved Arya, my wolf mate, my soul mate, collapsed into my arms.

**Next…and last…2 weddings and a funeral**.

**Ok, ok, Margaery too.**


End file.
